Moonrise
by NouvelleNouveau
Summary: Luna was always special, alway different. But after misfortune sweeps through her life, she finds herself somewhere even she couldn't have imagined.
1. Chapter 1

Hello, reader. Welcome. This story has been stewing in my mind for a while, so I've decided to post it. There won't be an update schedule because school's back in session and everything is chaos, but I'll do my utmost to keep up with it.

This is just the prologue. A test chapter. A teaser. You ready? Alright then. Allons-y!

Disclaimer: I own neither Harry Potter nor Doctor Who.

* * *

When Luna was five years old, her father died.

* * *

_Charles Etoile moved around the house quietly in the grey light of early morning. He taught history and mythology at a local college and had a lecture to give that morning. He paused his hasty sandwich making to greet his wife with a quick kiss as she entered the kitchen, still half asleep, and put the kettle on._

"_Would you like some tea?" she asked him, pulling out a mug. He shook his head._

"_Sorry, Cira dear, I have to run," he replied, putting down his bag to properly give her a hug and a kiss. "I love you."_

"_I love you too," she answered fondly, fixing his hair. "Say goodbye to Luna before you go."_

"_I will," he promised. "Though she's probably still be asleep." He turned down the hall and quietly opened his daughter's door. Little Luna was sitting up in bed, blonde hair mussed from sleep but silver eyes wide and awake. Charles smiled at her._

"_Hello, Lunette," he said quietly._

"_Good morning, Daddy," she replied, almost eerily mature for such a little girl. "Are you going now?"_

"_Yes, time for work," he answered. "Be good for Mummy, alright?"_

"_You won't come back," she stated, not responding to his question. Charles paused._

"_Of course I'll come back, Lunette. I'll be back for dinner." But Luna shook her head._

"_No. I know you wont come back. I can see it," she insisted. Charles gently placed his hands on either side of her head, silently accepting her statement. They paused like that, then Charles pulled away. Their eyes locked, both shining silver. He nodded._

"_Alright. Then I need to give you something," he told her, then pulled a loop of string from around his neck. Hanging from the string was a key, a simple silver key. Luna bowed her head and Charles slipped it around her neck, tucking it away so it rested under her pajamas. "Never lose this," he ordered softly. "Never, ever."_

"_I wont, Daddy," Luna answered, touching where the key rested over her heart. "I promise. I love you."_

"_I love you too, Lunette," he replied, scooping her into a tight hug. "For now and for always, I love you." He placed her back down on the bed. "Bye-bye, Lunette."_

"_Goodbye, Daddy."_

_Luna was watching the telly with her mum when they heard what had happened. The building her father worked in had been razed by a lab experiment gone wrong and there had been few survivors. Charles Etoile was not one of them._

* * *

When she was six, her mother remarried.

* * *

_Cira Etoile née Asis mourned for a month before she realized she couldn't care for a growing girl alone in the Muggle world. So she sold the house and quit her job and re-entered the wizarding world._

_Xenophilius Lovegood was the first person she met. An old friend from school, the eccentric wizard had appeared on the doorstep with a bouquet of strange looking flowers and a smile on his face. He had introduced himself to Luna and looked around for creatures called 'nargles.' Over time his visits became more and more frequent, especially after Cira got a job working with potion and magic experimentation and Luna needed a babysitter._

_It was about seven months after the death of Charles that Xenophilius asked Cira to marry him, and six months after that they held the ceremony. Luna was the flower girl at the wedding. She never truly accepted Xenophilius as her father though. He was Xeno, never Daddy. Luna may have been his 'turnip,' but first and always she was her daddy's 'Lunette.'_

_They moved to Xeno's home near Ottery St. Catchpole, a muggle and wizarding village in south England. The house was tall and round, but good enough for the small family. Cira set up a lab on one floor and Xeno had a printing press on another floor where he printed his own magazine, The Quibbler. Life settled and continued._

* * *

When Luna was seven, her mother died.

* * *

_Cira Lovegood worked at home, experimenting with potions and spells and magic. Luna liked to spend her free time watching her mother work. Sometimes she imagined that when she grew up she would make potions like her mum, or explore and find things. Like her mum, she could be a scientist. Or she could teach, like her daddy._

_Cira was working on a potion that day. Luna stayed out of the way and watched her mother mix ingredients, changing the color of the liquid within the cauldron. Deep blue to black to grey to silver, each stir and new ingredient caused a change._

_Then it went wrong. Cira frowned at the faintly glowing light blue liquid. Her frowned deepened as the color grew darker, and worry turned to fear._

"_Luna, get out of here!" she exclaimed, drawing her wand to try and get rid of the pending potion blow-up, but it refused to do anything. "Luna, please, get out!"_

"_Mummy!" the seven year old exclaimed, torn between running and helping. The potion flared suddenly and time stopped while silver eyes, just like her father's, met sad blue ones._

"_Too late," her mother said quietly._

_Time moved again, and the cauldron exploded, sending debris and potion everywhere, combining with other ingredients and causing more destruction. Luna fell behind an overturned table which shielded her from the majority of the danger. Finally the sound stopped and Luna peeked her head over the table. The rest of the room was charred, and for the most part blown to pieces. A moan came from one corner and Luna clambered over the table and raced to her mother's side._

_It was not a pretty sight. Her entire right side was burned, in some places to the bone. Shrapnel had lodged itself in her lower half and her legs were bent at odd angles. Luna gently crouched down and wiped a trail of blood from her mother's mouth._

"_Mummy?" she called out quietly. Cira coughed._

"_Luna," she gasped. "Oh Luna, I'm so sorry."_

"_Shh," Luna ordered, brushing hair from her face. "It's alright. It had to happen. Like Daddy," she told her dying mother. Her mother's unburned hand twitched towards her daughter, and Luna grabbed it. As she bent over, the key that she always wore around her neck moved out from beneath her shirt. Cira looked at it sadly._

"_He gave you that the day he left," Cira said unquestioningly. Luna nodded._

"_I knew he was going," she answered softly. "He gave it to me."_

_Cira nodded slowly. "I have something else for you, then. Something else your father wanted to give to you." She tugged her hand away and slipped it into a pocket. Out came an old, tarnished watch with a strange design. Cira pressed it into her daughter's hand._

"_This is yours. Don't open it unless you have to. Promise me you wont open it until you must."_

"_I promise, Mum," Luna said solemnly. Cira sighed and relaxed back onto the ground, breathing raggedly._

"_Je t'aime, ma lune. I love you, Luna Etoile. Never forget that."_

"_I love you too, Mummy. I won't forget." Cira breathed out a sigh, chest filling and dispelling the air one last time. Her eyes closed, and the faintest of smiles graced her lips, a peaceful look. Luna sat there, holding her hand as the life left her body. She cried._

_Xeno didn't recover. He couldn't accept his wife had died. He ate less; he was withdrawn; he rarely left his room. He certainly didn't have the energy to care for a seven-year-old witch._

_Luna left after the funeral. She wrote a note to Xeno, saying she understood and she wouldn't stay and cause a burden to the grieving man. She placed the note on the mantel next to her mother's wand, packed a bag, and left. Xeno didn't notice until three days later._

_She made her way to London. The city was large, and a poor orphan could find whatever she might need there. It was also the center of wizarding Britain and being near people like her would be the safest place, she thought. She wore her key and watch on the same string, next to her heart, to remind her of her parents, and she had a backpack filled with some food, a little money, and a few articles of clothing. With that she entered London, a little girl alone in the world._

* * *

There, Luna Etoile met the Doctor.

* * *

Reviews are welcome.


	2. Chapter 2

Wow. I was really surprised by the amount of feedback this got. I hope you continue reading.

Disclaimer: I own neither Harry Potter nor Doctor Who.

* * *

"Shut up and run," the elder of the two ordered his younger companion.

"I am running," the younger girl replied, matching his pace as they spun around the corner. "Did you see that they've got wands?" she asked in her normal slightly vague manner as they ducked and dodged down the crowded road.

"Yes, we're being chased by wizards dressed as police, magic is real, and we need to get out of here," the boy replied exasperated.

The girl almost stopped. "You know about magic?"

"Went through five years at the Dublin Academy of Natural Gifts before I decided I didn't want to go back to school. The Pack comes first."

"Why not Hogwarts?"

"It's full of stuck up pricks and the headmaster is too old to be mentally stable."

"Dumbledore?"

"Yes, Dumbledore. Hurry up, they're catching us," he ordered, grabbing the girl's hand and tugging her along around another corner.

"Why did you leave?" the girl queried.

"DANG? I told you, I felt like I should stay with the Pack. Plus I would have had to go to Hogwarts for the next two years, and I didn't want to be under Dumbledore's thumb. He would have tried to use me against my brother and discriminated against me because I'm a natural werewolf." He answered the question casually, as if they were strolling through a park and not racing through the dirty streets of London.

"A werewolf? Really?" She was just as cool about it as he was.

He waved off her inquisitiveness. "If and when we get out of this, I'll explain. But they're right behind us now so you need to shush and run!"

They sped on in silence, bowling over Londoners and tourists who gaped at the strange chase going on. Two ragged children were racing in front of a few police, some of whom were waving twigs of all things. Strange.

Three corners later the older boy and his young companion ducked into an alley, a dead end. The alley was empty save a few trashcans and a large blue box.

"This will be nice," the girl muttered. "Trapped in an alley by Death Eaters and muggle police. What did we do to them?"

"Stole their money and broke that one guy's wand?" the boy guessed sarcastically, looking for a way out. "While they were on their way to a raid? Although, that does beg the question why they had their wallets on them if they were out for some 'fun.'"

"They're not known for brains," the girl agreed, eyeing the box. "We should both fit in here, come on." She pulled on the door, but it was locked. "Oh, that's not good."

The boy came over and tugged on the door, growling. "Great. Just great." He spun around to watch the alley's mouth. They had lost their pursuers for a short time around the last corner, maybe they'd get lucky and the Death Eaters would pass by, or an Auror squad would arrive. He snorted. Yeah right.

The girl, on the other hand, was staring at the box. It was about two meters tall, and looked like the kind of police box that had gone out of style decades ago. "Come on," she muttered to the blue wood. "Let us in; we really need help. Please let us in." The box hummed under her hand as she stroked it, and the girl stepped back. It had hummed? Uncertainly, she tried the door again, trying to understand why something was telling her the box was alive. It was like when she had know that her Daddy was leaving, or that her Mum needed to die that day – an unexplained, unexpected, simple knowledge. The box was not a box and it was alive.

"Please let us in," she murmured again, and stepped back as the lock clicked and the door swung open. She stared at the box a second longer, disbelieving, then snapped out of it. "It's open," she called back to her werewolf friend. He turned and they both moved inside, shutting the door behind them and pressing their ears against the strangely warm wood.

"They'll know we're here," the boy murmured. "There's no where else we could have gone."

Voices rose outside, questioning the disappearance of the dusty children then cursing the kids. Throughout the entire exchange none of them seemed to notice the box at all. Finally, the voices faded as the wizards moved off to cause havoc elsewhere. The two sighed, closing their eyes and leaning back against the wall. The boy opened his eyes first.

"Oh." At his quiet exclamation, his companion opened her eyes too, and they looked around the place they had found themselves.

It was bigger on the inside. Much bigger. The room they were in was domed, held up by six pillars of what seemed to be coral of some sort. A bluish-green pillar rose in the center, surrounded by a console that was covered with all sorts of buttons and levers and gadgets and household utensils. Across the room was a door leading elsewhere, where they didn't know. The room was also empty.

"Oh," the girl agreed.

"What is this?" the boy asked. The girl shrugged.

Quiet footsteps rang from the door at the far side of the room, and the two froze. Seconds later, a man walked out.

He was wearing a brown pinstripe suit with red converse and looked haggard. Deep brown eyes shone with hurt, but when he saw the two unexpected visitors in his box surprise covered that.

"Oh," he said. "Hello. Who are you? And how did you get in?"

"I'm Luna," the girl replied instantly. "That's Will. We were running away and hid in here. We can leave now."

"No, no, it's fine. Just, no one should be able to get in, not even the assembled hordes of Genghis Khan."

"I asked nicely and she let me in," Luna replied simply. The man's face once again filled with shock.

"How?" he demanded. "I'm bonded to the TARDIS, how could you just walk in?"

"TARDIS?" Will asked. "Who are you, and what's a TARDIS?"

"Oh, right, sorry," he said. "I'm the Doctor, and this is the TARDIS. Time And Relative Dimensions In Space."

"You've got a time machine spaceship?" Will deciphered. The Doctor nodded. "Is there anyone else here?"

"He's alone," Luna replied. The knowledge came to her easily and she voiced it. "He lost someone, this Lonely Angel."

The Doctor was becoming more and more confused, and that made him uncomfortable; he didn't like not knowing. First, the two kids had managed to get into his TARDIS by simply _asking_. Second, the girl. She was different. It was as if she could see into him, and he had the feeling that she wasn't normal at all. The boy also didn't smell completely human.

"What makes you say that?" he asked Luna, testing the girl. She tapped the back of her head.

"It's in here. Something's telling me." The response intrigued the Doctor.

"Low level psychic field?" he murmured to himself. "No. Can't be. She wouldn't be able to read me. Unless it's not a psychic field. Nonhuman of some sort maybe? Smells human, looks human. Well, looks Time Lord, we came first," he corrected himself, trailing off and frowning speculatively.

"Do you know what it is?" the girl asked, breaking through the calm shroud of simple knowledge to feel the fear that the sudden knowledge that wasn't hers.

The Doctor shook his head. "I could come up with a few ideas if you wanted, but if you really want to know I'd have to look at it properly."

"How?" Will wanted to know.

"I'd look in her head," the Doctor replied offhand. "Well, it's not quite that simple, but that's the easiest explanation for your human mind to understand."

"You make it sound like you're not human," the boy caught. The Doctor gave him a pointed look, and Will's eyebrows rose. "What are you then? Not one of the magical creatures. Though I will admit you smell different."

He smelled different? "You don't smell human either," he replied.

"Werewolf," the boy replied.

"Time Lord," the Doctor answered. Luna gasped quietly, and Will and the Doctor turned to her.

"The last," she murmured, almost to herself. "So alone, no friends or family because everyone leaves and everyone else is gone." She shook herself. "How do I know that?"

"Do you want to find out?" The Doctor asked gently. Luna hesitated for a moment, then nodded. The Doctor moved forward carefully and placed his hands on either side of her head.

He moved through her mental landscape carefully. The girl seemed instinctively to understand how to keep him away from what she didn't want him to see, and on either side of the hall he walked memories closed themselves away, though he wouldn't have looked anyways. He felt carefully for the source of her unrequested knowledge. At the back of her conscience he felt it, a glow that didn't fit in with the rest of her mind, and he moved towards it.

Indeed, there was something alien in the young witch's mind. The Doctor probed it, and then almost tore himself from the girl's mind in shock when he finally recognized what he was seeing.

"No," he whispered vehemently. "No, it can't be." His breathing sped up and he struggled to contain his emotions, fearing to harm the girl. He beat a hasty retreat, surfacing in his own mind and pulling his hands away from the girl's head quickly, as if afraid to touch her. He looked at her carefully. Silver eyes, dirty-blond hair, small but inquisitive, completely normal, and very special.

"How?" he whispered brokenly. Relief warred with hope and disbelief.

"Doctor?" Will asked, looking worried. "Are you alright?"

"How is that possible?" the Doctor asked again, coming out of his shock. "They're gone. All of them; I destroyed them. How can you be here?" he demanded harshly.

"How what? Who did you destroy?" Will pressed.

"My people. The Time Lords. I- There was a war, and I ended it, but everyone lost. They're all gone; I'm alone. So how can she be here?"

"What do you mean?" Luna asked, beginning to understand.

"Do you have a watch? A silver watch, did your mum or dad ever give you a watch, or even just a key or something?" the Doctor asked desperately. Wordlessly, Luna pulled out the tarnished watch and the silver key from beneath her shirt where she always kept them. The Doctor touched the key reverently, then picked up the watch.

"My Daddy gave me the key before he left and didn't come back. Mum gave the watch right before she died. She told me not to open it before I had to. Do you know why?"

The Doctor nodded, still fingering the watch in amazement. "The key is a TARDIS key. I doubt there's still a TARDIS it goes to, but it would have unlocked a ship like this one. That's probably why she let you in."

"And the watch?" Will asked.

"There's something called a Chameleon Arch. Time Lords can use it to rewrite their biology to human; to hide themselves. Then their Time Lord essence is stored in a fob watch. A watch exactly like this one."

"So what you're saying is Luna is actually an alien turned human and the second of two survivors of your race?" Will clarified. The Doctor nodded slowly. Luna watched with wide eyes, silent. "How are you taking this, little Moon?" the werewolf asked.

Luna blinked once, then relaxed. "It's okay. It feels right knowing. I can feel it's true. But I'm not going to open my watch. Not yet."

"Alright. As long as you're okay."

"I think," the Doctor began. "I think it may be a good idea if you stayed here for a few days? I can get you back to right now when we're done, but it would be better if we could just… talk."

Luna nodded, fist grasping her fob watch. "I agree."

Will shrugged. "You can get us back for whenever and wherever?" he asked the Doctor, who nodded. "Okay. We'll stick around."

The Doctor grinned, though he still looked shaken. "Fantastic. I'll move the TARDIS and you two can find rooms and I'll meet you back here when we're done. Welcome aboard."

* * *

Reviews are, as always, welcome.


	3. Chapter 3

Marching season's almost over, so I should have more time to write. Maybe. Except I'm doing NaNoWriMo this November, so don't expect anything within the month.

Disclaimer: I own neither Harry Potter nor Doctor Who.

* * *

While the Doctor fiddled with the console, Will and Luna dove deeper into the TARDIS. It was Luna who first brought up the topic.

"You're a werewolf," she stated conversationally. Will looked down at her as she continued on. "But I've seen you not-furry on the full moon."

"I was never actually bitten," he explained. "Most people would call me a 'natural werewolf' or 'clan-born.' If you look at it from a scientific standpoint, I have the dormant form of the gene. My step-brother was bitten by another lycanthrope, but I inherited it."

"You don't change in moonlight," the witch clarified. Will shook his head.

"No. I don't change at all, unless it becomes dominant. I just have the sense of smell and the 'inner wolf.' And amber eyes."

"Interesting," Luna replied, tilting her head. Will expected her to continue, but she kept silent, and they moved on in silence.

* * *

They returned to the console room relatively quickly. The Doctor was standing at the column, looking lost in another world, but snapped out of it the moment they fully entered. Everyone was silent, watching the others.

"So," the Doctor started.

"Are you going to tell me what a Time Lord is?" Luna replied, perching on the controls. The alien tilted his head, then moved to sit across from her on the unused nav chair.

"Yes. I am."

While the Doctor spoke of Gallifrey and the ancient race of the Time Lords, Will listened with one ear and watched Luna. The girl's face was unchanging, as it often was, except for her eyes. Large silver orbs watched the Doctor with wonder as he spoke, but beneath that was a sadness no child should have to know.

He let his mind drift, allowing his brain to process the history while at the same time turning to his first meeting with Luna. He remembered it clearly.

* * *

_It was raining. No, pouring, a never-ending deluge that would leave the kip flooded and its members cold and wet and hungry and probably sick. Sighing, he turned a corner, slipping into a maze of alleys that would take him to their home, and paused. There was someone in the alley today, a shivering mass curled into a ball. Approaching he saw it was a girl, a child who couldn't have been older than six. Her head was down and her knees were drawn up to her chest as she shivered against the empty building that was hidden from the main thoroughfares. Now that he thought about it, that would make a much dryer place for the Pack; it was abandoned since two larger gangs had fought each other to destruction nearby. But that would have to be discussed with Kash later._

_His first though was to leave the girl. Back away, pretend he hadn't seen her. Not everyone would or could survive the streets and Kash had enough to deal with keeping them mostly fed and alive; they had neither the supplies nor the time to take in another hungry mouth._

_But the wolf rebelled violently against that, unwilling to let the girl go. The wolf, his eternal companion and the form his magic took, saw this girl as a pack-mate and was unwilling to let her go._

'I don't know her,' _Will argued._

'Pack-mate,' _the wolf insisted. _'Cub of pack.'

_Will growled quietly but there was really no point in fighting it. The wolf agreed to sit quietly most of the time, surviving peacefully, unlike his brother's counterpart, but every once in a while it would intercede forcefully with an opinion, deciding it wanted or needed something. Then it was impossible to argue. And right now, the wolf was certain that this strange girl was pack-mate. Sighing again, Will gently picked her up. She was asleep, or perhaps unconscious. He took a moment to shift her, then continued on with his burden, hoping the peace offering of a larger, drier kip would appease Kash's temper before she hurt him for bringing another needy mouth into the Pack._

* * *

That had been a little under a year ago. Luna had woken in the abandoned building (Will's news of a new kip had kept Kash from digging into him right then and there when he had stepped into their flooding shelter with another sick child, though she had given him an earful, starting with "William Lupin!" and ending with a threat that had to do with his well-being and ability to procreate) and immediately accepted it. Time had passed, as time was wont to do, and Will found that the wolf was right. Luna was a pack-sister in his eyes and he took her under his wing. But he also saw the magic she held, a "pack-mate" of his magical heritage. The wolf, of course, was very smug about it. Will had sighed and accepted it.

The pack hadn't grown anymore, though Maple and Ash had both started talking about leaving, trying to get work somewhere. Will expected the twins would be leaving shortly, leaving Kash alone with Ari, but the two would be well off – Kash would be of age soon and the siblings would be protected from any law enforcement hoping to take them up.

Will's attention returned to the present as the Doctor wrapped up his tale. Luna's head was bowed but he could feel the sorrow from across the room. Moving quickly, he drew up next to her and wrapped the girl in a hug.

"They're all gone," she murmured to him. "But they were wonderful."

"I'm sure they were, little Moon," Will replied.

"I don't really want to interrupt, but I have a question for you two," the Doctor broke in hesitantly. "I mean, I don't normally take in children. Well, I really never take children along. Except Adric. But since you're technically Time Lord, I was wondering if maybe you wanted to stay awhile? See some places, go somewhere maybe? What do you say?"

Luna looked up, and Will drew back, letting her reply for them. "Maybe if you tell us the other reason you want me to stay," she answered. The Doctor looked sheepish.

"Well, on their eighth birthdays Time Lord begin to mature, developing any specialties. There's no Untempered Schism for you too look through to bind that so I figured I could keep an eye on you…" he trailed off, looking hopeful and slightly worried, but Luna smiled dreamily.

"Then of course we'll stay."

* * *

Reviews are, as always, welcome.


	4. Chapter 4

I'm back. NaNoWriMo is okay. Ish.

Disclaimer: I own neither Harry Potter nor Doctor Who.

* * *

Luna sat up with a start. There was something special about today, an almost-though right at the edge of her mind. Before she could focus on it, however, the TARDIS began bouncing around and she didn't have time to figure it out. Instead, she did her best to struggle into jeans and a blouse and hurry to the console room.

They had been on the TARDIS for about two months, though it seemed like they might have been there forever. Everyone fell into a sort of family, with the eccentric guardian, a protective older brother, and a sweet younger sister.

In that time they hadn't done anything too dangerous. A chase through the Helverian Rock Statues and a minor dispute on Borella Six had been the most trying events of their companionship. They had visited around other places too, waterfalls and cities and villages and the future and the past. All around the universe, for weeks. Luna loved it.

* * *

Now, of course, Luna was crossing the control room to get to the central console, which was no small feat. The ship was quaking madly.

"What's happening?" she asked the Doctor, who was running around the column as if the ground wasn't bucking under his feet. He was frowning though, and looking almost panicked.

"I don't know. We've been grabbed by something, I think, or she's just being independent. She does that every once in a while, you know."

Will chose that moment to tumble into the room, rolling and popping up again as the TARDIS shook.

"What's with the TARDIS?" he asked, clinging to the nav chair.

"We don't know," Luna replied. "The Doctor says she's taking us somewhere."

"Oh," the werewolf managed to get out before they all lost their grips and went flying. The Doctor ended up tangled in the railing, and Will found himself flipped over the nav chair, while Luna had fallen against the door. "Well, happy birthday Luna," he shouted over the wheezing TARDIS.

Everything quieted at once. The Doctor jumped up immediately. Will and Luna followed more slowly.

"It's your birthday?" the Doctor asked, looking interested. Except for his eyes, they were guarded, worried. "How old are you?"

She had to think about it for a moment before answering. "Eight." Already? Yes, that was right. Eight. Hmm. So that was the almost-thought that morning.

The Doctor was looking at her strangely though. "Eight?" he repeated.

"Yes, eight," she replied, wondering why the alien now looked openly worried. "Why? Are you alright?" Maybe the wrackspurts from Helvaria's sister planet Helvania had gotten to him.

"Eight," he murmured again to himself, knowing the kids could hear him but not particularly caring. A Gallifreyan's eighth birthday… He shivered, remembering his trip to the Untempered Schism. Everything he had seen… running since then, always running. He shook his head quickly, trying to dislodge the memories, but they still hovered in the back of his mind, darkening everything. His mouth was uncomfortably dry.

"Doctor?" Will asked, smelling the sudden sorrow and slight fear coming from the Doctor and turned. "What is it, what's wrong about eight?"

"Back… before. When Gallifrey still stood… A Gallifreyan child would be taken to see the Vortex through the Untempered Schism. It was a… an initiation of sorts," he struggled to explain. "Some became cold and unfeeling, some ran in fear, some went mad, but no one came back unchanged. My best friend began to lose his mind that day… And Luna is eight today… If she were still on Gallifrey she would be going down the Schism today. Right now, probably."

"So? If you're worried about Luna, don't be. There's no Untempered Schism anymore," Will reminded him.

The Doctor shook his head, eyes boring into Will's, trying to make him understand, and for a moment Will was overwhelmed by the different emotions he was receiving. Fear and worry and sorrow and loneliness and a fierce protectiveness and something completely alien, a memory that he couldn't share with anyone. And there, buried under the tangled web of fear and sorrow, was a tiny, brief spark of hope that was still burning, after everything. The wolf inside Will howled, a keening sound of loss.

"Will, the Untempered Schism was a rip in the fabric of reality that showed Time. Everything and everywhen, all the places that ever were or ever will be and everything happening there, all at once. Do you know what the closes thing to that is, that still exists today is?"

"No," Will replied, but he had a sinking feeling. Time, in it's raw form… that was how the TARDIS traveled…

The dawning must have shown on his face, because the Doctor nodded. "Right. The Vortex. Which means she can see it at anytime. And with an awakening Time Lord brain in a human body…"

"Boom?" Will guessed. The Doctor nodded, and Will understood his fear. The wolf inside was roaring to protect his packmate, but he couldn't tear his eyes away from the Doctor's immensely deep and haunted eyes. Until Luna made a small "oh" sound. As one, the two spun around to see what had caused her quiet exclamation of surprise. Will shielded his eyes, stumbling out of the control room, while the Doctor's panic level spiked sharply.

The door was open.

The TARDIS spun gently, floating with the eddies of the Time Vortex, calm for once. All around her swirled Time, strands of might-have-beens and will-bes. Reds and blues and golds, all glowing and pulsing and changing every instant. Everything at once and a void at the same time. There were no words to describe it properly, no way for anyone human to look at it and stay whole. Yet, standing in the door and illuminated by the eddies and paths of time, stood little Luna Etoile.

Her hair was floating around her face, like a halo. She stood like an angel, only eight years old and looking over time and space and eternity. The Doctor approached cautiously, uncertain. Was she even still alive? He could only see her back. As he moved closer, her profile came into focus. Her silver eyes were wide, staring at it all, taking it in.

"Luna?" the Time Lord asked, worried but oddly calm. "What do you see?"

"Everything," the girl replied, her voice calm and slightly dreamy like always. "All that is and all that was, and all that will be. The would-have-beens and the never-will-bes, and the death and life that spans across eternity." She turned to face him fully, and the Doctor could see she was crying. "It's so beautiful, Doctor. So terribly beautiful."

"I know," the Doctor replied, standing next to the young girl, hand on her shoulder while they stared out at the Vortex together. He could see that beauty now, beauty he had missed when he was her age, when he had seen the war and the pain and the suffering. But beauty, that was there too. He smiled faintly down at Luna, who looked up at him, smiling back. Her mind brushed against his, the Time Lord part of her mind moving to overtake the human part. She fiddled with the watch in her hands.

"Should I?" she asked him quietly.

"You're a Time Lord now. The choice is yours."

Luna nodded, eyes fluttering closed. Time moved around her, holding her and comforting her. She could feel the brush of the Doctor's mind against her own, providing support that he had missed growing in the strict Time Lord society. Nodding silently to herself, Luna opened the watch.

It was frightening. A rush of sensations, knowledge, feelings, memories she didn't know were hers. But it only lasted a second, and then it was done, and she could feel everything around her. The TARDIS, humming warmly. The Vortex, spinning and continuing on unendingly. Will, deep in the TARDIS, hoping she was alright. And the Doctor, standing at her shoulder. Older than he cared to admit, a genius and a protector and the last. No, not the last. Not anymore.

And yet, she felt so alone now. They were the only two of their kind, the very last, and with that in mind she reached out, suddenly very frightened, searching for him, for comfort and protection. The Doctor met her halfway, holding her protectively both physically and mentally. But the girl couldn't take the strain anymore, and her eyes slid shut as she fell into comforting darkness.

The Doctor grabbed Luna as she sank to the floor, overwhelmed. He shared the feeling, though had better control. It wasn't her change that had overwhelmed him so much as what she had done afterwards, unknowingly. As he carried the girl back to her bed, he felt a new bond in his mind, a place that had been empty since the Time War, or maybe since before that. A place where the bond between father and child resided.

* * *

Reviews are, as always, welcome.


	5. Chapter 5

Apologies for the cliched plot twist last chapter. But not really.

Disclaimer: I own neither Harry Potter nor Doctor Who.

* * *

For the second time that day, Luna woke. This time, however, everything was different. This time, in the silence she could see more, smell more, hear her own oddly comforting double heartbeat. In her peripheral vision she caught glimpses of golden images that disappeared as soon as she twisted to focus on them.

"Da- Doctor?" she called out, poking her head out into the hall. _Da-_? she asked herself. Had she almost called the Doctor 'Dad'? She shook off the question and the discomfort that came with it. Of course she hadn't. That would be silly. Right?

Of course, being a Time Lady now might mean that her new brain was looking at things funny. Time Lady. She shivered slightly in appreciation. She was a _Time Lady_. The last child, the last female, of an ancient, genius race. It was overwhelming.

"Luna?" Will had appeared, looking slightly apprehensive. Why? She didn't bite. She wasn't different. Well… for the most part.

"Yes?" she replied, smiling brightly up at him.

"Erm… How are you?"

"Quite fine, thank you. It's very interesting, you know. I can see all the different threads of possibility. It's rather confusing, though. I didn't know you had a brother who taught at Hogwarts. I thought werewolves weren't allowed to teach… Ooh, and we're going to meet him!"

"I- what? Remus is teaching at Hogwarts?"

Luna nodded excitedly. "But not yet. I have to grow up first. And you… oh, that's interesting."

"What? What is it?" And what was she looking at? He looked around, but didn't know what was giving her that information.

"Oh, I see now. And… oh!"

"Luna…" Will called carefully while the little blonde focused on something he couldn't see. "Uh…"

"That's why…" she breathed. "Oh… oh, I didn't mean to… but…" She trailed off, uncertain, and Will's discomfort evaporated instantly as he moved to wrap the girl in a hug.

"What is it, little Moon? What's wrong?"

"But it will all be okay," she continued, ignoring him and wriggling out of his embrace. She switched moods in the blink of an eye, leaving Will befuddled as she smiled again at something he could make out or understand. "Yes, it will all be wonderful!"

Will moved back, resting on his heels and trying to make sense of the girl's ramblings. She had always been a little odd but this… this was just crazy. His uncertainty returned. Was this still Luna, or a new, alien girl who had taken the place of his little pack mate? The wolf inside growled at him and his stupidity, but Will ignored it, not even noticing its frustrated growls as he locked that part of himself away.

"It's hard to keep it quiet for the first bit," a voice interrupted Luna's rambling speech and Will's doubtful thoughts. Both of them turned to see the Doctor in one of the open doorways, hands shoved deep in his pockets.

"What do you mean?" Will asked, rising from his crouch.

"She can see everything now. What is, what was… what could be, what must not. It's all right at the edge of her vision, always flitting around out of the corner of her eye."

"It's more obvious now. I see what I was missing before," Luna put in. The Doctor smiled down at her.

"How are you doing?"

"Wonderfully," she answered. "There's so much to see; it's so beautiful. Though, I'm sorry about what I did…"

"Don't be. It was your mind's natural reaction, it happens to everyone. That's why most of the time a child's mentor or parent would go with them to their ceremony. I don't mind, and I promise nothing will change unless you want it to."

"I don't- I'm not sure yet," she replied hesitantly.

"Um, not to interrupt or anything but… what are you talking about?" Will asked, looking back and forth between the pair. The Doctor and Luna shared a glance and Will felt a momentary surge of uselessness wash over him.

"I accidentally created a bond when I changed," Luna explained.

"A… bond?" Will echoed. Luna nodded.

"A father-daughter bond."

"And what does that mean?"

"They were common in our society," the Doctor put in. "Before… well… It's one of a few types of mentor/learner bonds. For the most part, they allowed for the parent or teacher, whoever the 'mentor' of the bond was, to be aware if the child was in danger or some other major emotional turmoil, because introduction to the Time Lord society was anything but easy. New laws, schooling, often the child would find a specific talent they were especially good at. My… friend, Koschei, he was good at hypnosis. Personally, I consider myself more of a telepath. But, the point of it is to allow a guide for the young Time Lord while they entered society."

"Oh."

"Yup."

"Okay then… and you're okay with it, Luna?"

"I think so."

"Well then, I'll, uh, let you two discuss your Time Lordy… stuff, I suppose. Later," Will offered before quickly disappearing into the depths of the TARDIS feeling strangely hurt and excluded. Luna sighed as he moved out of sight.

"Is he afraid of me now?" she asked sadly. The Doctor put a comforting hand on her shoulder.

"He's not afraid, Lunette. He just doesn't understand. Give him time."

Luna paused for a moment, digesting his words and deciding her response.

"Only Daddy calls me Lunette," she said slowly. The Doctor winced above her, though she couldn't see it.

"I'm sorry," he said. He should have realized that, it was something special, a connection she had only with her father, of course. He had simply heard the name drifting around her mind and though it suited her perfectly. "I wont do it again, if you want me not to."

Would she like him not to… Luna didn't know, and that was hard to wrap her mind around. She couldn't quite describe the warm feeling she had missed inside since Daddy had died, and it was nice to have that back. But it had been her special secret with Daddy, she was his Lunette. Could it maybe be the Doctor's name for her too? No. Not the Doctor's name for her… her _Dad's_ name for her.

She paused again, wondering where that had come from, but the answer was obvious. The bond, of course. It was a father-daughter bond; it made sense that with that she would refer to the Doctor as Dad. She was surprised by her easy acceptance of the change. What had happened to little Luna Etoile, the girl who had lost her family and clung to their memories and secrets as tightly as possible?

_She grew up_, a voice answered inside her. _Grew up and accepted her history._ Yes, she had. She wasn't just an eight-year-old little girl, she was a young Time Lady, the last, who had seen Time without going mad, without running. Little human Luna Etoile was gone. Luna Etoile, the Lady of Time, had arrived.

"No, Dad. It's perfectly okay."

* * *

Reviews are, as always, welcome.


	6. Chapter 6

Arkon is a canon planet from the Whoniverse, mentioned in passing once or twice.

Disclaimer: I own neither Harry Potter nor Doctor Who.

* * *

The months that passed next were the happiest of Luna's life since Daddy died. She had her Dad now, a new and magical sense, and adventures and lessons galore. She learned tricks and rules and languages and skills and everything she could possibly want to know. They moved all throughout Time, the Doctor's waning hope rekindled by the small, energetic, far-sighted girl. The two grew closer together, enjoying the other's presence, and sharing secrets of the past.

Will watched. As the weeks turned into months, he withdrew from the two, alone in the depths of the ship. Time progressed, and he found himself hiding in the circuitry more and more often, unable to face the tiny family gallivanting around the galaxy and pulling him along. He didn't let it show, of course – he always put on a smile for Luna, because she was still pack – but he didn't know how long he could keep it up. He could see her grow away from him, turning from his little Moon into a strange, alien girl that looked like his little sister but wasn't. It wouldn't be long, he was sure. Soon she would be gone, and he was afraid of what would happen to him when she was.

Luna saw that, though. The Doctor didn't know, didn't notice – for someone so brilliant he could be remarkably short sighted, she reflected fondly – but she did. She watched him grow farther and farther away, ignoring them, staying silent, hidden in the TARDIS somewhere. She didn't know what to do, though. He was her brother, always; didn't he know that? What had changed? She couldn't understand. Though smarter than many people she had known, she was still only a child. So, she did nothing, watching with large, sad, silver eyes as her brother removed himself from the family they had created.

The Doctor, though uncertain what it was, could tell something was off. He didn't admit it though, didn't want to admit it. He was the happiest he'd been since Rose had… left. Perhaps since before that, in fact, perhaps since Gallifrey had been- he didn't let himself think about that, instead dwelling on the joy that had filled his life in the past months. Time had passed quickly while he did his best to impart everything he knew to Luna. For the first time in far too long he had family, had someone to share everything with, someone who could keep up. He had the knowledge that this little girl, this wonderful, beautiful, brilliant little Lady of Time, depended on him. He was her father, she was his daughter, and in a universe where he was so very, very lonely, that one fact shone as brightly as Time itself. So he pushed away his worries and focused on the amazement, the love, and their future.

They should have known. It couldn't last. Nothing ever did. Even the starts burn out. Civilizations fall, oceans dry up, mountains crumble. It was the way of existence. The way of Time.

Thirteen months. He had left after thirteen months. Just over a year. Right after Luna's birthday. His present to her, given in private outside the TARDIS' doors, like a choreographed conversation.

"I'm not coming." An emotionless statement.

"What?"

"I'm not coming with you, Luna. I'm staying here, on Arkon."

"But… Will, why?" Confusion.

"Because I just can't anymore."

"Will…"

"Don't worry, it's not your fault. It's just… Luna… you're a family. You two, the last of your people, a perfect little family. I don't fit in. I just don't." Simple, harsh truth.

"So you're staying here."

"Yes..

"I thought Pack always looked out for each other." Hurting.

"We do, Luna, we do. But you've got your own Pack now. One I'm not part of." Regret.

"Yes you are! Will, please! Please don't leave me. I've lost everything else from home." Protest.

"But you've found so much. Shh, don't cry, little Moon. It will be alright, I promise. Here. Take this. If I need you, I promise I'll call you back here." Comforting.

"Will, please…"

"I can't, Luna. Don't ask me to." Quiet request.

"Will…" Whisper.

"Happy birthday, little Moon. I'll see you again." Painful goodbye.

"Will, come back. No, don't go. Will, please, Will! Will!" Sobbing. Pleading. Running, hoping. Hurting.

That was how the Doctor found her. Crouched against the side of the TARDIS, staring into the city, crying quietly, face twisted in pain and hurt.

"He left, Dad," she murmured as the Doctor crouched next to her, holding her close. "He left. Why did he have to go?"

"I'm sorry, Lunette. I'm so, so sorry."

"Why did he have to go?" she repeated softly.

The Doctor didn't have an answer.

* * *

The worst part about it, Luna decided, was how quickly things went back to normal. How she barely missed him. It hurt, yes, especially when his door disappeared, but she still couldn't dredge up the feeling of loss she had felt when her Daddy and Mum died. Sure, she felt that he was gone but… it didn't impact her, not that much. Perhaps, she wondered to herself at times, because he had already been gone in a sense. Now he was just physically gone too, no longer in the TARDIS.

She moved on. It took some time, but she realized he was right. He hadn't fit, not in this family, in this pack. As she grew older, she saw what he had seen. She wasn't his Luna, his 'little Moon,' not anymore. She had noted it, but not noticed it. Now she understood the differences.

"Luna!" the Doctor shouted, voice echoing through the TARDIS. He was in a kitchen somewhere, or maybe the observatory. Luna didn't bother to keep tabs on him; he might act mad, but he was genius too, and the TARDIS would keep an eye on him if he really needed it.

"Yes, Dad?" she called back more softly, knowing he could hear. He appeared in the console room moments later, grinning like a maniac. Luna couldn't help but smile back; his grin was contagious.

"I've gotten a call from an old friend. How do you feel about going back to Earth?" he asked, bouncing up and down a little, like an exuberant schoolboy.

"Back?" They hadn't been to Earth for ages, it felt like. "What time?"

"Bit later than your time, early twenty-first century. Hospital in London experiencing strange energy readings, friend in Cardiff needs a hand. Up to it?"

"Yes, I'd love to see Earth again. Oh… that's interesting. We had better be ready, Dad. I believe we'll be finding a bird with a need for adventure and a brilliant mind."

The Doctor smiled at his daughter's cryptic clues, not doubting them for a second. "Well then, allons-y, ma chérie."

"Je viens. Il y a une aventure avec un jeune rossignol."

* * *

That is French, yes. Translation:

The Doctor: (with his famous 'Allons-y!') Let's go, my dear!  
Luna: I'm coming. There's an adventure with a young nightingale.

Reviews are, as always, welcome.


	7. Chapter 7

And now I'm messing with cannon. I hope it turns out well.

Disclaimer: I own neither Harry Potter nor Doctor Who

* * *

"Dad!"

"Yes, Lunette?"

"I'm going to go find the cafeteria or something. I'm hungry," Luna told the Doctor, who was lying comfortably propped up on pillows in a hospital bed, completely healthy.

"Be careful, keep an eye out," he warned her. Once upon a time, he would have asked Will to go with her. "And if anything happens, find me, okay?"

"Yes, Dad."

She wandered down the halls, looking for something to eat but not particularly caring how long her detours were. Curiosity was part of her chemical makeup, the Doctor had once said, and she couldn't resist a look at all the equipment. She kept out of the way, mostly, trying to name the parts and what they did. Not that she was particularly knowledgeable about most of it – much as the Doctor taught her, and despite everything she'd picked up during their travels, hospitals were one of her dad's least favorite places and he tended to avoid them.

She did make it to the cafeteria despite her numerous detours. There she found a seat by a window and munched on a banana, watching people. They were more interesting than the rain pouring down outside. It was lunchtime, and the room was filled with the buzz of conversation. Patients and doctors and family members chatted at the linoleum tables. Normal everyday humans, her dad would say, amazed. Amazed by the normal things, the mundane. Maybe because that was what he could never really have, Luna reflected. Even their own domestic life style wasn't really calm or every day. It was running and explosions and magic and seconds left on the countdown and nick-of-time rescues. And fun, of course, wonderful brilliant fun, but not exactly 'normal.'

Luna was pulled from her musings when people began to point to the windows in shock. They began crowding around tables staring at the rain, and pulling out phones. Luna looked around, trying to see what they were all staring at.

The rain was going... up?

Seconds after she processed that the entire building shook, and the people in the cafeteria went from pointing in amazement to falling over each other, crying in surprise and fear and shielding their eyes from the light that was suddenly streaming through the windows. It didn't last long, maybe thirty seconds, and then the light cleared and people slowly sat up.

Luna had tumbled under a table along with a medical student she vaguely remembered from her wanderings that morning. The student jumped up immediately and ran off, most likely to check on patients. Luna got up more slowly, taking in the scene, both inside and out.

They were on the moon. Well, that was different. Not that she minded; she had always liked the moon. She had been named after the moon. Not that that was particularly important at the moment, of course.

The humans, the wonderfully normal humans, were not quite calm about the change in scenery. They were crowded at the windows, panicking, running down the halls. Luna sighed. They'd all be fine, she was sure. They had air which meant a force field of some kind which meant that someone was keeping an eye on them and didn't want them all suffocating. But still, having about a thousand panicked humans crowding the halls might make it difficult for Dad and her to figure out what was going on.

Speaking of Dad… she supposed arriving on the moon probably counted as 'something happening' and she would have to find him. Which would mean picking her way through the panicking masses. Not to mention locating him in the first place.

It was times like this the bond came in useful. Even if they couldn't communicate clearly it did a fine job when it came to finding the other. She used it now, feeling along it like it was a tether, looking for her the mind of the Doctor, the warm, caring light at the end of the tunnel.

Reception, mezzanine. Only one floor down, thankfully. She carefully picked her way through the panicking people and ran towards her dad.

He was hiding in some ferns, with another person, a pretty, dark-skinned medical student. They were talking animatedly, and Luna caught a reference to a little shop as she approached from behind.

"They're after something non-human. Which is very bad news for me," Dad was saying.

"Why?" the young woman crouched next to him asked. Luna smiled to herself as her dad turned to give her a Look. "No. You're kidding me," she insisted.

"He's not," Luna told her, crouching on the other side. The Doctor turned to look, relieved that she had appeared. Not that he didn't trust in her to keep herself safe – the tricks in hiding and conning she had picked up off the street had come in handy in many situations where her safety was at risk – but he didn't like the thought of her wandering around when everyone was twice as tall as her and running around screaming.

"Luna! There you are, how was lunch?"

"Fine. I was interrupted by our landing."

"Um, wait," the medical student interrupted. "Not to be rude, but who is she?"

"Oh, right! Luna, Martha Jones, doctor-in-training. Martha, this is my daughter, Luna."

"So you're an alien and you've got a kid?"

"Yes," Luna answered for him. "I'm an alien too. Hello!"

While Martha gaped, Luna caught sight of the aliens.

"Those are Judoon," Luna noted, ignoring Martha's surprise. "This will be fun."

"Right! Come on then!" the Doctor exclaimed, grinning and running off. Luna smiled impishly and followed him, as did Martha, though not after looking at the two of them like they were insane. Well, maybe they were, but like Oscar Levant had once said, there's a fine line between genius and insanity.

Behind them, the Judoon were splitting up between the different floors, having finished cataloguing the lobby and reception area. The Doctor led them up the stairs to a nurses' station the sixth floor where he fervently flipped through medical records. The Doctor was busy sonicking the computer and Luna moved back, staying out of the way while he worked.

"They've reached the third floor," Martha said, catching up. She paused and looked at the sonic screwdriver "What's that?"

"Sonic screwdriver," Luna replied.

"Well if you're not gonna answer me properly," she huffed.

"It is. Really. It's a screwdriver, and it's sonic. He says he built it while he was bored. It's quite useful."

"What else has he got, a laser spanner?

"I did, but it was stolen by Emily Pankhurst, that cheeky woman," the Doctor interrupted, attempting to pull the conversation back to the matter at hand. Not that he minded trading stories, but they did have things to do.

"Argh!" he exclaimed, glaring at the computer. "What's wrong with you? Judoon must have locked it down. The Judoon Platoon, upon the Moon," he inserted, grinning to himself before focusing again. "Cos we were just traveling, I swear, we were just wandering, I wasn't looking for trouble, honestly, I wasn't. But Jack noticed the plasma coils around the Hospital – that lighting, that's a plasma coil, it's been building up for two days now – so I checked in, I thought something was going on inside. Turns out the plasma coils were the Judoon, up above."

"But what are they looking for?" Martha wanted to know.

"Something that looks human but isn't."

"Like you, apparently," Martha said with a touch of disbelief.

"Like us," Luna confirmed. "But not us."

"Haven't they got a photo?"

"Might be a shape-changer," the Doctor replied off-handedly.

"Well whatever it is, can't you just leave the Judoon to find it?"

The Doctor paused what he was doing momentarily to look at the two girls. "If they declare the Hospital guilty of harboring a fugitive…" he trailed off, turning back to the computer. "They'll sentence it to execution."

"All of us?" Martha asked incredulously.

"Really?" Luna echoed. She knew what the Judoon were – interplanetary thugs who typically worked for the Shadow Proclimation and spoke a rather strange language (that she knew, incidentally, thought not very well) – but not exactly how they operated.

"Oh, yes. But if I can find this thing first…" the Doctor paused, smacking the monitor he was looking at and glaring. "Oh, d'you see? They're thick, the Judoon are thick, they've wiped the records! That's clever!" he shouted at the computer, making his point known that he didn't think it was clever at all. Behind him, Martha asked something about what they were looking for, and Luna answered for him. Smart girl, he was glad to have her along. Made it easy to keep working and not have to answer the inquisitive ones. Not that he minded the inquisitive ones. Actually, he was beginning to think almost-doctor Jones would make a fine addition to their TARDIS team. Not that she would _replace_ anyone, of course, he just thought they were in need of a new face, a new take on problems, and she really was smart, brilliant in fact…

"She's the nightingale, I think," Luna said, derailing his train of thought.

"The nightingale?" the Doctor repeated, giving up on the computer.

"Who wants adventure," Luna explained.

"Who you think is coming with us," the Doctor translated. Luna nodded.

"It's faint, but I can see it. In the gold."

Seeing it in the gold, that was how Luna described it. They had decided, a few months back, that was her "Time Lord gift," her specialty. Seeing events in Time. Every Time Lord could do it, of course – that was part of what it was to be a Time Lord – but what Luna saw was unusually clear. Others saw like the Doctor did, they knew whether Time was in flux or fixed at the present. But Luna saw the events in a tapestry, picking pieces out, looking at things that were going to be and the big picture. It wasn't crystal, it wasn't set in stone, but it was a much better idea than what many had seen, long ago when the Time Lords had been numerous.

"Are you sure?"

"More and more so, every passing moment," Luna replied. "Be nice to her Dad. She won't understand for a while, so pay attention."

"Attention to what, Lunette?" he asked, but Luna didn't reply, instead nodding to the computer monitor.

"May I see it?"

"Hmm? Oh, yeah, sure," her dad replied, handing over the sonic and letting her work.

It took the two of them combined, but they got the back-up running again, just as Martha came running back.

"I found her!" she exclaimed, panting.

"You did what?" the Doctor asked. He didn't get an answer though, because the thing that had been chasing Martha rounded the corner, striding towards them. Immediately, he reached out and snagged Martha's hand, propelling Luna in front of him and pulling along their new companion – because really, Luna thought to herself while running towards the stairwell, there wasn't any doubt that she wasn't coming with them after this; she saw it solidly now.

They ran through the halls, careful to jump over people lying prone in the halls, and down the stairs, nearly toppling into the Judoon.

"Careful," Luna called as her Dad pulled them through the door to floor five, leading them down the long, mostly empty halls while the thing in black leather gained on them. They made it to an empty room and the Doctor locked the door behind them, shoving the two girls into a smaller area portioned off the main one by large glass panels.

"When I say so, press the button," the Doctor ordered quickly.

"I don't know which one!" Martha protested.

"Then find out!" he shouted back.

"I recommend the biggest one," Luna said sagely. Martha gave her a look and Luna shrugged. "It worked last time."

"Last time?" Martha echoed, grabbing the instructions manual. "No, wait, I don't want to know."

"Now!" the Doctor shouted as the leather thing broke down the door and charged in. Martha hesitated for a split second before following Luna's advice and hitting the large yellow button. Outside, in the main room, the leather thing lit up and then toppled onto the floor, motionless.

"What did you do?" Luna asked, watching her dad begin to twitch.

"Increased the radiation by 5000%. Killed him dead."

"But, isn't that gonna kill you?" Martha spoke hesitantly.

"Nah, it's only Rontgen radiation, we used to play with Rontgen bricks in the nursery when-"

"Really?" Luna interrupted. The Doctor frowned slightly at the interruption and Luna tilted her head and smiled, knowing he was showing off to the new companion.

"Yes really. It's safe to come out; I've absorbed the radiation. Now all I need to do," he paused, holding his left foot out a little, "is expel it out of my body and shift it into one little spot – say, my left shoe."

Martha watched him while he hopped up and down on one foot and then pulled off his sock and shoe and dumped them into a radiation hazard bin.

"You're completely mad," she got out finally. The Doctor looked down at his feet.

"You're right, I look daft with one shoe," he agreed, pulling off the other and wiggling his toes. "Barefoot on the moon!"

"Not what she meant, Dad," Luna whispered to him as Martha crouched next to the leather thingy. Her dad just winked at her.

"So what is it?" Martha asked, looking up at the Doctor. "Where's he from, Planet Zovirax?"

"Just a Slab; they're called Slabs," the Doctor replied, crouching next to Martha. "Luna?" he asked his daughter.

"Basic slave drones," she replied, trying to recall anything she had picked up on Slabs. "Er. Solid leather…"

"Someone's got a hell of a fetish," Martha muttered. The Doctor got up, going back to the x-ray camera. "It was that woman, Miss Finnegan, it was working for her," she continued, but the Doctor wasn't listening.

"My sonic screwdriver!" he exclaimed mournfully, holding it up so he could see the half-burnt appliance.

"She was one of the patients; she killed Mr. Stoker," Martha continued.

"It burnt out the sonic screwdriver!"

"Martha's trying to tell you something," Luna interrupted.

"But I love my sonic screwdriver," the Doctor replied sadly.

"Yes, Dad, I know," Luna comforted.

"Doctor!" Martha called, getting his attention.

"Sorry," he replied, tossing the sonic over his shoulder and grinning. "You called me Doctor!"

"Anyway," the doctor-in-training ground out. "Miss. Finnegan is the alien, she was drinking Mr. Stoker's blood."

"Odd time to take a snack," Luna muttered sagely.

"Unless…" the Doctor inserted. "No. Yes! That's it. Wait a minute… yes! Shape-changer!"

"Internal shape-changer?" Luna clarified. The Doctor nodded down at his daughter.

"She wasn't drinking blood, she was assimilating it. If she can assimilate Mr. What's-his-name's blood she can mimic the biology. She'll register as human. We've got to find her, show the Judoon. Come on!" he exclaimed excitedly, happy to have figured it out. Finally, they were getting somewhere.

* * *

Not every episode will be here and not every episode will be this detailed.

Reviews are, as always, welcome.


	8. Chapter 8

I promise, this story will not become a recap of season three.

Disclaimer: I own neither Harry Potter nor Doctor Who

* * *

Luna crouched behind a trolley with her dad, and their temporary companion. Or not-so-temporary perhaps; she found herself liking Martha's quick thinking and knew that her dad shared sentiments with her.

They were hiding from a Slab, the other Slab, while the Doctor explained for Martha's benefit how they traveled in pairs.

"Like you," Martha muttered.

"Like me what?" the Doctor asked, confused. Luna watched, seeing where this was going.

"You two, traveling in pairs," she explained. The Doctor searched for a response for a moment, trying to find the connection.

"I- no, not necessarily, it's- Humans!" he finally got out, sounding exasperated. "We're stuck on the moon, running out of air with Judoon and a bloodsucking criminal and you're- Come on."

"Oh, I like that," Martha muttered, getting up behind him and Luna, who were sharing a look. "'Humans!' I'm still not convinced you're alien."

They turned around, looking for the Slab, and came face to face with a couple Judoon, one of which held up some sort of device to the Doctor's head. Luna tensed, as did the Doctor. Martha gaped when the Judoon declared the reading.

"Non-human!"

"Oh my God, you really are," Martha breathed. 'I told you so' popped into the Doctor's mind, but he squashed the urge to say it.

"And again!" he prompted instead, grabbing the girls' hands and pulling them down the hall, ducking the laser beams. They were back in the stairwell, going up. Back to floor six, locking the door behind them.

Oxygen was low; Luna was beginning to feel it. People who had previously been panicking and running around were now leaning against the walls, sharing oxygen tanks.

"They've done this floor, come on," the Doctor muttered, running on with Luna. Martha paused though, forcing them to wait while she asked one of her fellow doctors-in-training how everything was going.

"How are you?" the Doctor asked his daughter while they were stopped.

"I'm fine, Dad. I'll tell you when I'm not," she assured him. The Doctor nodded, trusting her. He knew she would tell him, she always did. And in the circumstances where she couldn't tell him, he would be able to feel it through their bond. That was what it was for, after all.

"Alright. And you, how d'you feel?" he asked, turning to Martha as she hurried up.

"Running on adrenaline," she replied. The Doctor grinned.

"Welcome to our world."

"What about the Judoon?" she asked.

"They have large lung reserves," Luna replied, following Martha's train of thought and remembering their last run in, where Will had found out the hard way they could hold their breath longer than he could. And he had still ended up soaking wet. "It won't slow them down."

"Where's Mr. Stoker's office?" her dad broke in.

"This way," Martha prompted, leading them off again. They weren't far, but by the time they reached the office Finnegan was gone.

"Drained him dry, every last drop," the Doctor affirmed, crouching by the pale, dry husk that used to be Mr. Stoker. Luna made a face. "I was right, she's a Plasmavore."

Luna filed the name away for future reference, like she always did. It would come in handy at some point she knew. Martha looked down at her deceased boss. "What's she doing on Earth?"

"Hiding?" Luna offered. Her dad nodded.

"Probably. But what's she doing now?" he asked himself. "She's still not safe, the Judoon could execute us all… come on." He moved to run out again, but Martha stopped him.

"Wait a minute," she ordered, kneeling by Mr. Stoker and gently closing his eyes before standing again. The Doctor paused a moment to appraise her with newfound respect, then they were off again, the Doctor muttering to himself. Luna smiled; this was her dad - completely mad and utterly brilliant, seeing the tiny things, figuring it all out. She loved it.

"Think think think. If I was a wanted Plasmavore surrounded by police, what would I d- Oh," he cut off his rambling mid-thought, staring at the sign for the MRI department. "She's as clever as me," he muttered, then corrected himself. "Almost."

Behind them Luna could hear the Judoon searching for them, for her dad. It wouldn't be long before they were there, and someone needed to stop the Plasmavore. The Doctor turned to Martha and Luna had an idea what was going to happen before it did.

"Martha, Luna, I need time. Stay here, you've got to hold them up."

"How do we do that?"

The Doctor paused, looking at Luna. Technically she was alien too, what if- "I'm safe," Luna said, seeing where his train of thought was leading. She flashed the back of her hand, where at some point she must have inked a cross because there was already an 'X' on it.

"When?" the Doctor asked, confused but proud of her quick thinking.

"Mr. Stoker's office," she replied.

"Smart girl. Martha, then," he said, turning to face her full on. "Just, forgive me for this. It could save a thousand lives. And it means nothing, honestly, nothing."

"Dad," Luna said slowly, quietly. A warning, not liking what she saw in the gold.

He didn't hear her though, and instead kissed Martha, full on, before sprinting off and leaving the poor girl clueless and amazed.

"That was 'nothing?'" she asked his retreating figure.

Luna sighed. She had seen this, but she had hoped… Although, maybe… "Yes," she replied quietly. Martha looked down at her as if just noticing her.

"Then why…?"

"Exchanging saliva is a genetic transfer. It will slow the Judoon because non-human traces will register in their scans. Please, don't read anything into it," Luna said, hoping to save them both from awkwardness and misunderstanding that she would have to watch unfold.

"I-" Martha didn't get a chance to respond though, because the Judoon were there, cataloguing her and scaring her half to death. Luna watched from behind, hoping everything would work out. She wasn't too worried – after a while you got used to the risks that came with the Doctor and trusted him to deal with his own problems. If he were seriously in trouble the bond would alert her.

The Judoon were done with Martha, finally. The one who had scanned her handed her some sort of compensation before stomping off, leaving Martha stunned and shaken.

"Are you alright?" Luna asked. Martha nodded and shook it off.

"Yeah, fine. Come on, we'd better find him." The two shared a quick look before running after the Judoon. They were panting now, especially Martha. Oxygen was running low and the majority of the people there had already fainted due to deprivation. There wasn't long left now, unless they could uncover Florence Finnegan as a Plasmavore the entire hospital would die.

They found her in the MRI room. She was fiddling with her handbag when Luna and Martha showed up, spouting something about dying of fright. The Judoon were in the way, Luna couldn't see what was going on. Who had died?

"Confirmation: deceased," the Judoon stated, and Luna had a horrible sinking feeling, her stomach was one floor down and her heart had lodged itself in her throat. No. No, he didn't mean, he couldn't mean- She would have felt it…

The young Time Lady pushed her way forward, hoping they were wrong. There he was, lying on the floor, much too pale.

"No!" she cried, suddenly and forcibly reminded of Daddy's death, of Mum's. She tried to move forward, but the Judoon held her back. "Please, you have to let me through, that's my Dad," she pleaded with the police force.

"Case closed," the Judoon nodded, ignoring her attempts to get to her dad.

"No, it was her," Luna cried. "She did it, she killed him." She _killed_ him…

"Judoon have no authority over human crime," the alien grunted.

"She's not human," Luna whispered, unable to do more, finding it difficult to stay standing. Dad was dead. She was numb; she couldn't feel anything. All alone again, and this time there was no Will, this time she was trapped on the moon and helpless. And Dad was dead. He was dead.

"Oh, but I am. I've been catalogued," the Plasmavore replied, holing up her hand, marked with an 'X.'

"But she's not," Martha stepped in. "She assimilated- Wait a minute. You drank his blood? The Doctor's blood?" She knew now, knew what he'd done. Certain, the doctor-in-training grabbed a device off the Judoon and pointed it at Finnegan.

"I don't mind, scan all you like," the Plasmavore smirked. The grin was wiped off her face, however, when the device began to whine.

"Non-human!" the Judoon shouted.

"What?" the alien asked. She had just assimilated, she shouldn't…

"Confirm analysis," the Judoon ordered, while Finnegan panicked.

"But that's a mistake, it's got to be, I'm human, I'm as human as they come!"

"He gave his life so they'd find you," Martha said softly, pulling Luna away from the Judoon while the little girl watched everything silently, large silver eye full of tears. Martha couldn't imagine how the girl must feel.

"Confirm: Plasmavore. Charged with the crime of murdering the Child Princess of Padrivole Regency Nine."

"And she deserved it!" Finnegan spat out, not bothering to pretend now that she'd been found out. "Those pink cheeks and blond curls, and that simpering voice, oh, she was begging for the bite of a Plasmavore!"

"Then you confess?" the Judoon asked.

"Confess? I'm proud of it! Slab, stop them!" The remaining Slab stepped forward but it wasn't much help against the Judoon's laser guns.

"Verdict: guilty. Sentence: execution," the Judoon continued, priming their weapons and aiming at Finnegan, who had retreated to behind the booth in the MRI room.

"Enjoy your victory, Judoon. Cos you're going to burn with me. Burn in Hell!" And burn she did, crumbling to ash under the Judoon's laser guns. As soon as she was gone the Judoon holding Luna and Martha back relented, letting the two rush to him.

"Case closed," the Judoon stated. Luna wasn't paying any attention though; she didn't listen to Martha's argument with the Judoon, or see the MRI machine. She bent over her dad.

"Dad?" she whispered. "Dad, please wake up, or regenerate, or something. Don't leave me alone again," she pleaded, holding his hand and staring at him, as if the force of her gaze would revive him. "Dad…" she whispered. Why hadn't she felt it, the bond should have warned her! Why hadn't it?

But then Martha was there, kneeling next to her. "Move," the medical student ordered, fully in her element, trying to save him, trying to bring him back. "C'mon, c'mon," she was muttering, giving him CPR, pumping his chest and forcing air into him. The oxygen was thinning, it was harder and harder to draw a breath to pass to him but she kept going. This man had sacrificed himself to save them all, she wasn't going to let him just, die. Next to her, Luna struggled to keep from passing out, but her eyelids were so heavy…

"Two hearts," Luna reminded her weakly, sinking into unconsciousness. Martha just nodded and kept going, pumping both sides of his chest. Hoping, praying. _Let this work. Please, if not of us then for Luna…_ She sucked in one more breath, the last most likely, forcing it into his lungs.

And he coughed. A hacking, pained cough, but a real cough. Blood flowing, oxygen moving. Dazed but alive. Alive.

"The scanner… she did something…" Martha managed to choke out while the Doctor moved stiffly, hauling himself up. "Air… gave you the last," she managed before slumping on the floor unconscious. The Doctor looked around, noting his daughter unconscious on the floor, Martha next to her. Brilliant Martha Jones…

But there wasn't time for that, there were a thousand people suffocating right now and he couldn't focus, his brain was fuzzy and he hurt all over and the machine was sparking and about to explode taking the moon and half of Earth with it, and he had to stop it and there were two thick wires, red and blue, and _which one to pull_?

"Red or blue, red or blue?" he whispered to himself, head spinning, looking at the lighting streaming from the MRI machine. "Blue…" he muttered to himself, before changing his mind at the last second. "No!" Brain still fuzzy, head swimming, not enough oxygen, but it was the right one, the red one, and the light died away, leaving the room normal again. He panted, attempting to draw air from where there was almost none.

He moved away, kneeling next to his daughter, checking for a pulse. It was there, surprisingly strong. The Doctor sighed in relief. She was okay. She'd be okay; she'd be fine.

She stirred under him, eyes opening wide. He looked at her lovingly, hating himself for having to hide it from her, but it had been necessary. To save everyone. To save her.

"Dad?" she whispered, reaching up to touch his face tentatively, not willing to believe he was there, that he wasn't dead. But her hand came in contact with him, there and real and breathing and alive, so alive. She threw herself towards him, and he caught her, holding her tightly.

"Oh, Lunette. I'm sorry, I'm so sorry," he murmured into her hair.

"Never again," she whispered fiercely. She wouldn't lose him again, she wouldn't. She couldn't, she didn't want to be alone again, not now that she knew what she could have.

"Never," he promised her. "Never, Lunette, never."

They took a moment, holding each other. It had been too close; he had been dead.

"Je t'aime," Luna murmured finally.

"Je t'aime aussi. Viens."

"Don't forget Martha," Luna reminded him.

"Of course not. Allons-y."

They stood and the Doctor gathered Martha carefully before leaving the MRI room. People were slumped along the walls, empty oxygen tanks lying next to them, huddled together, unconscious. They moved down the halls, Luna holding tight to her dad's arm while they made it back to the ward, staring out onto the moon's pockmarked and lifeless surface through the window.

The Judoon were leaving, flying away and stranding them on the moon. The Doctor watched them, pleading under his breath. And then, suddenly, it was raining. They smiled, looking at each other for a moment.

"It's raining, Martha," the Doctor said grinning down to their new companion. "It's raining on the moon." It would all be fine. And then the hospital was shaking and there was bright light and they were back, back on Earth.

Immediately, it was organized chaos. Police and paramedics and family members rushing about. Oxygen tanks were being passed around, patients were being wheeled around. No one noticed a young medical student being dropped off, or the two people walking away, completely fine.

"We'll be back," Luna said as they entered the TARDIS, half a question.

"Let them recover," her dad replied, fiddling with the controls. "But then, yes. What do you think about her?" He meant Martha, but they both understood that.

Luna tilted her head contemplatively. "She's brilliant. She'll catch on quickly."

"What do you see?" he asked gently, referring to her gift.

"Her. Here. And, oh! An old friend," she said, drifting into the dreamy state that signified foresight of some sort. "More than one old friend. But I can't see who they actually are…" She shook herself. "And memories. Are you sure, Dad?"

"Yeah, why not. We need a new face around here. Since Will and Rose…." He trailed off, his faux cheer melting away. Luna gave him a hug.

"She won't replace them. And remember what I said. Don't lead her on, she's only human." The Doctor nodded, looking slightly uncomfortable. "What?"

"Luna… I'm so sorry about today."

"Why couldn't I feel it, Dad? I can always feel it."

"I didn't want you to," he replied. "So I just dampened the bond and well… I just- I didn't want you to know, if it backfired completely or something…" I didn't want you to feel yourself being left alone.

"Don't hide it from me," Luna ordered quietly. "I want to know." I don't want to be scared and helpless like that again.

"I won't. I won't, Lunette, I promise." Unless it's your safety at risk. "But you have to promise too. Don't come after me; don't charge in. Think. Watch. Be the smart one. I'll tell you when I need you"

"I will, Dad." Unless I know you need saving. "I'll listen."

The Doctor smiled, aware they were both not saying everything. "Good girl. Now, shall we go see Miss Martha Jones?"

The Doctor parked the TARDIS carefully. It was night the same day, and they were in an alley near the venue for Martha's younger brother's twenty-first birthday party. They found the place easily – they just had to follow the yelling around the corner.

It was an interesting scene. The man who must have been Martha's dad was chasing after some pretty, orange-skinned blonde girl while his son followed him. In the opposite direction, Martha's mum stormed off, followed by Martha's older sister.

"Peaceful family get together," Luna deadpanned.

"Quite," the Doctor replied. Both watched as Martha looked up, seeing them in the shadows across the street. She smiled, moving towards them as they slipped back into the alley where the TARDIS sat. The Doctor leaned against the ship, and Luna held his hand, swinging it slightly. Martha stopped in the mouth of the alley, and silence stretched on for a moment.

"I went to the moon today," Martha said finally.

"Bit more peaceful than down here," the Doctor replied.

"You never told me who you are."

"The Doctor. And my daughter."

"But what sort of species?" Martha persisted. "It's not everyday I get to ask that."

"Time Lord," Luna replied.

"Right. Not pompous at all, then." They all laughed at that, and the Doctor pulled out a sonic screwdriver from his pocket.

"We just thought… Since you saved my life and I've got a brand new sonic screwdriver, and Luna's okay with it and everything… You might fancy a trip," the Doctor offered, glancing down at Luna, who nodded.

"What? Into space? I can't, I've got exams, I've got things to do. I've got to go into town and pay rent and my family's going mad." She winced as her mother's voice drifted over them, threatening. "Then again…"

"It travels in time too," Luna said. Martha looked at her.

"Get out of here."

"It does!" the Doctor defended.

"Oh, come on. That's going to far," Martha insisted.

"I'll prove it." He disappeared into the TARDIS and it began to disappear, leaving Martha staring. She moved forward, waving her hand where it had been.

"He'll be right back," Luna offered. "He's just showing off for our new companion."

"Does he normally?" Martha asked, moving back.

"I'm not sure. This is the first time we've picked someone up proper since he adopted me."

"You're adopted?" Martha asked, but then the TARDIS was reappearing and the Doctor was back, showing her his tie and looking quite pleased with himself.

"Told you!" he crowed.

"No, but… That was this morning, but… Did you just…? Oh my God! You can travel in time! But hold on, if you could see me this morning, why didn't you tell me not to go to work?" she demanded.

"Crossing into established events is strictly forbidden. Except for cheap tricks," the Doctor replied, fixing his tie smugly.

"And that's your spaceship?" Martha asked.

"She's the TARDIS," Luna answered, holding her dad's hand again. Martha mouthed the word, and the Doctor continued.

"Stands for Time And Relative Dimension In Space. Go on, take a look."

Martha stepped up, fingering the ship. "Your ship is made of wood," she informed the two Time Lords. "But there's not much room, we'd be a bit…" Luna raised an eyebrow at her and she changed her word choice at the last moment. "Close."

"Look inside," the girl prompted eagerly. Martha shrugged and pushed open the door, entering the TARDIS followed closely by the two aliens. She backed out again immediately, denying it and walking around it before coming in again.

"It's bigger on the inside!" she exclaimed, while the Doctor mouthed the words at the same time behind her. Luna grinned at him.

"Is it? I hadn't noticed," he told her, tossing off his coat. Showing off again, Luna noted, smiling to herself.

"But… Is there a crew? Like, a navigator and stuff?"

"Just us," the Doctor replied. "Sometimes we have, I had guests. I mean, sort of friends traveling. We've had, fairly recently, but they're gone now so… anyways…"

"Where are they now?" Martha asked, noticing how he was stumbling over his words.

"Rose, Rose is with her family; Will's um… anyways… they're happy, they're fine!" he insisted before turning back to her. "Not that you're replacing anyone."

"I never said I was," Martha said.

"One trip, just to say thanks, for not leaving Luna alone again. One trip, then back home. We're better off alone."

Martha smiled cheekily. "You're the one who kissed me." Luna sighed, shaking her head at Martha behind her dad's back.

"That was a genetic transfer," the Doctor scowled. Martha opened her mouth to speak again, but noticed Luna's look and edited her response.

"Don't worry, I only go for humans," she returned.

"Good," the Doctor said. "Now then, lets have a look."

He ran over to the console, leaving Martha to look deflated. Luna moved over to her.

"He's not ready. He still can't talk about her much. Let it go."

"Who-" The Doctor interrupted then, and both girls sighed, knowing at some point they'd be discussing the Doctor, who was completely oblivious. "Later," Martha muttered and Luna nodded.

"Close down the Gravitic Anomalyser. Fire up the Helmic Regulator. And finally," the Doctor grinned at them, ready to go. "The handbrake! Ready?"

"No!" Martha replied, looking excited. The Doctor grabbed the lever, grinning widely, an expression that Luna matched.

"And off we go!" he called, slamming the lever down. Immediately the TARDIS began spinning and everyone was holding on for dear life and the Doctor was flipping buttons and Luna was holding down switches and they were off. "Welcome aboard, Miss Jones!" the Doctor called.

Martha reached her hand out, shaking the Doctor's across the console. "My pleasure, Mr. Smith!" she replied, sharing a smile with the two aliens standing around the console with her. Luna grinned to herself. Three again. Like old times.

* * *

French translation:

Luna: I love you.  
Doctor: I love you too. Come on.

Reviews are, as always, welcome.


	9. Chapter 9

Disclaimer: I own neither Harry Potter nor Doctor WhoLuna pumped the bicycle pump quickly while her dad hopped around the console, doing his best to keep them on track, if not steady.

* * *

"Is it normally this bumpy?" Martha called over the rumbling and creaking of the TARDIS.

"When he drives," Luna replied, feeling more at ease in the ship and loosing some of her quiet exterior. It had been something she'd picked up a while ago – keep quiet and you're unnoticed, or as unnoticed as the daughter of the last Time Lord in existence could be. When it had been her and Will and Dad she hadn't used it as often, feeling comfortable and safe with the two there, but after Will left she found herself with more time alone, perfecting different faces to show the world. Her favorite was the 'Loony' one.

"But, how do you travel in time, what makes it go?" Martha pressed on, amazed. "How does it work?"

"Oh, let's take the fun and the mystery out of everything," the Doctor replied sounding faintly amused under the annoyance. "Martha, you don't want to know; it just does."

Martha looked ready to protest, but the Doctor shouted out a warning and they landed with a thump, sending everyone careening away from the console. Luna caught herself on the nav chair, her dad bounced off a coral pillar, and Martha fell on the mesh grating underfoot.

"Blimey!" Martha exclaimed, brushing herself off. "Do you have to pass a test to fly this thing?"

"Yes, and I failed," the Doctor responded promptly, grabbing his coat. "Now, let's make the most of it. I promised one trip, one trip only." Luna followed him as he bounded over to the door. "Outside this door… brave new world."

Martha watched them, feeling the suspense. "Where are we?" she asked. Luna pushed open the door, feeling the thrill. No matter when or where they went, there was always the moment of suspension, of amazement, because it was a new, different place.

Martha didn't need another invitation. She bounded down the ramp and out to wherever they were. Luna and the Doctor followed, shutting the door and looking around.

It was somewhere in the past, or an underdeveloped planet. Luna guessed Earth's past, as the species running around was human. They were speaking English too; it sounded like London based off the accent. Time… early seventeenth century?

"You're kidding me," Martha said next to them, looking at a loss for words. Luna watched, amused. Had she been like that after their first trip? "You're so kidding me!" The Doctor and his daughter grinned at each other. Martha was still staring around, trying to see everything at once, like a kid in a candy shop. "Oh my God we did it. We traveled in time!" She looked at the Doctor, eyes shining. "Where are we? No, wait, got to get used to this, whole new language. _When_ are we?"

Above them a window creaked open and the three jumped back to avoid the contents of the bucket being poured out. "Garde à l'eau!" the lady in the window called down to the street.

"Somewhere before the invention of the toilet," the Doctor responded dryly. "Sorry."

"I've seen worse. Worked night shift at A&E," Martha explained as Luna and her dad moved off. Martha hung back.

"Hang on, are we safe?" she asked them. "Can we move around?"

Luna and the Doctor looked back at her confused. "Yes, we can," Luna answered.

"But, it's like the films. You know, step on a butterfly, change the course of the human race," Martha protested.

"Well, so, don't step on any butterflies," the Doctor replied, baffled. Who had said that? It was a) completely false and b) rather silly. Really, a butterfly? "What have butterflies ever done to you?" The moved on again, and this time Martha followed them.

"But what if I kill my grandfather?" Martha continued. Luna frowned, as confused as her dad.

"Are you planning to?" the Doctor asked. Martha shook her head. "Well then."

Martha looked put off, but only for a second. "So, where are we?" she asked. "And when?"

"London, early 1600s?" Luna guessed.

"Definitely London," the Doctor replied. He sniffed the air. "I'd say… er, right about 1599." Well, she hadn't been far off. "Close though, Lunette." He slung one arm around her shoulder.

"Oh, hang on!" Martha interrupted again. "Am I alright?"

"What d'you mean?" the Doctor asked, wondering why he always picked the over-inquisitive ones and what she was on about now.

"I'm not gonna get carted off as a slave am I?" she asked, looking the slightest bit worried. The Doctor looked at her, baffled, again.

"Why would they do that?" he asked wonderingly.

"Not exactly white, if you haven't noticed," Martha pointed out. The Doctor made a face. Humans and their quaint categories.

"We're not even human. Just walk about like you own the place, works for us."

"You'll be fine," Luna answered more comfortingly, pointing out two dark skinned women walking down the street gossiping. "It's not very different from your time."

"Yeah," the Doctor broke in. "You've got recycling," men shoveling manure, "water cooler moment…" two guys gathered around a bucket of water.

"-and the world will be consumed by flame!" a nearby preacher shouted to his nonexistent audience.

"…and global warming," he finished. Luna laughed, and Martha just continued looking at everything wide eyed.

"And entertainment!" he exclaimed, jumping away from Luna to stand in front of them. "Popular entertainment for the masses!"

"Dad…" Luna began. "Last time you said that…"

"We ended up getting chased through Chiswick by Blibbering Humdingers, yes I know. But we're in Elizabethan London! We've got the Globe!" He was grinning madly, and Luna couldn't help but share his enthusiasm.

"And… he's here?" she asked him. He nodded quickly. "Really?"

"Who?" Martha asked.

"The man himself," the Doctor answered solemnly.

"Shakespeare," Luna said.

"Really?" Martha asked, echoing Luna's earlier exclamation. "Can we see him?"

"Well…" the Doctor said, looking down at the two girls. "Miss Jones, would you like to accompany us to the theatre?"

"Mr. Smith, I would love to," she replied, taking his proffered arm. Luna grabbed onto his other hand and the three of them strode down to the Globe.

* * *

The play – _Love's Labour's Lost_ – was wonderful. Seeing Shakespeare himself was also amazing, though he hadn't looked like the pictures she had seen that one time she and Will broke into some museum in London – for one, he wasn't balding.

What hadn't been quite so amazing was he proclamation of the performance of _Love's Labour's Won_ the next evening. That was a lost play, _the_ lost play, the one that had never been found. Her dad had noted it right away, and Luna knew they'd be staying long enough to find out what happened. Martha was excited. So was Luna, especially when she heard they were going to meet _him_.

The inn was called _The Elephant_ and was a nice inn. Three stories with a rickety staircase outside and a central courtyard, it was the picture of a seventeenth century lodging. The Doctor got them in with a little help from the psychic paper and then they were upstairs to see William Shakespeare.

He was sitting behind a table with two other men, actors from the play earlier that evening Luna knew. Her dad entered enthusiastically, knocking on the doorframe and standing just inside the doorway. Martha was behind him, still looking around amazed, but hidden in his shadow. Luna hung back in the door, watching amazed as the gold dance around the playwright. He was an important one in the grand tapestry of Time. It was wonderful to watch, the timelines converging on and around him. There was the death of his son, and there was the writing of _Hamlet_. There was his marriage… and his dark lady! Oh, her dad would love that one! And she watched him writing The Scottish Play based off something that was going to happen soon… three witches, one very close, right now…

She didn't have time to ponder it for long though, because they were being invited in and her dad and Martha were sitting down. She shook herself off and followed them in, hovering by her dad since there was no chair for her.

The Doctor was introducing them to Shakespeare, with a little help from the psychic paper. "I'm Sir Doctor of Tardis, this is my daughter, Luna. And our companion, Miss Martha Jones."

"Interesting," Shakespeare replied, looking at the psychic paper unimpressed. "That bit of paper? It's blank."

The Doctor lowered the paper, smiling at Shakespeare amazed. "Ah that's… that proves it. Absolute genius."

"Um, no, sorry, it says right there: Sir Doctor, Lady Luna and Martha Jones," Martha argued, pointing it out.

"I say it's blank," Shakespeare countered.

"It's, erm, psychic paper," the Doctor attempted to explain. "It's- long story." He sighed, folding it and slipping it back into a pocked. "Oh, I hate starting from scratch," he muttered quiet enough for only Luna to hear.

"It shows what you want it to show," Luna explained briefly. "Ergo, psychic."

"Psychic," Shakespeare echoed. "I've never heard that before and words are my trade. Who are you, exactly, and why do you travel with your child? And, more to the point, who is your delicious blackamoor lady?"

"What did you say?" Martha asked, sounding surprised.

"Isn't that a word we use nowadays?" Shakespeare asked. "An Ethiop girl, a queen of Afric?"

"I can't believe I'm hearing this," Martha said, turning to the Doctor with a disbelieving smile. The Doctor sighed.

"It's political correctness gone mad," he replied to her before turning back to Shakespeare. "Er, Martha's from a far off land."

"Freedonia," Luna put in, earning a glance from the playwright before their conversation was interrupted by the entrance of a man with a very large beard and a rather ugly set of robes.

"Hold hard a moment!" the redhead ordered, sparing the guest no glance but instead glaring at Shakespeare. "A play with no warning? I demand to see a script, Mr. Shakespeare." He puffed himself up. "As Master of the Revels, every new script must be registered at my office and examined by me before it can be preformed."

Shakespeare sighed, rubbing a hand down his face. "Tomorrow morning, I'll send it round," he promised. Apparently the 'Master of the Revels' had a problem with that.

"I do not work to your schedule, you work to mine," the man reminded the playwright pompously. "The script. Now."

"I can't," Shakespeare bit out.

"Then tomorrow's performance is canceled," the man scowled. Behind him, the maid on her way out caught Luna's eye, and she missed the end of the exchange. Had the maid been there all along? How had she not noticed her, with all the gold swirling around her? And yet, she couldn't understand any of it.

The man stormed out, leaving the four alone. Shakespeare was sulking, Martha looked somewhat out of place, the Doctor was frowning, and Luna was still puzzling over the maid.

"Sorry about that," Shakespeare said finally. "Lynley and I rarely see eye to eye on anything. Come, have a drink." He gestured to the untouched pints still sitting on the table, and Martha picked one up gingerly.

"Well, there's _Love's Labour's Won_ over and done with," she muttered, taking a sip. "I thought it might be something more, I dunno, mysterious."

The second the words were out of her mouth a screech rang through the air. Instantly, the Doctor was out of his seat and racing down the stairs with Luna, the other two following closely. Out on the street, Lynley was doubled over, coughing up water. The Doctor surged forward, attempting to placate the crowd and help Lynley at the same time. Martha moved forward too, but despite their attempts to help the 'Master of the Revels' keeled over right before them. He was dead, Luna could tell from where she was standing next to Shakespeare – the gold around him was dimming.

The Doctor and Martha crouched over the body, murmuring to each other. Luna couldn't make out what they were saying but her dad didn't look very happy. He stood up suddenly, turning to speak to the innkeeper.

"Good mistress, this poor fellow has died, from a sudden imbalance of the humors, a natural if unfortunate demise. Call the constable; have him taken away."

"Yes sir," the woman replied, shocked.

"I'll do it, mum," the maid next to her answered. It was the strange one. Luna watched her walking away, certain that there was something not right about her. Why couldn't she see her properly? She could always see the gold, what was different about the maid? Luna contemplated following her for the briefest second, but didn't. She was only eleven, and wandering around London in 1599 in the dark wasn't the best idea.

The constable showed up shortly, and Shakespeare, Martha, Luna, and her dad climbed back up the stairs to Shakespeare's room. Everyone was subdued, worried. Luna stood by her dad, still pondering over the maid.

"She's not right," she muttered to her dad. The Doctor looked down at her immediately.

"Who's not right, Lunette?" he asked. Had Luna seen something, someone?

"I got you a room, Sir Doctor," the innkeeper behind them interrupted, standing in the doorway. "You and your companions are across the landing." She nodded to them and disappeared back downstairs, back to work.

"Poor Lynley," Shakespeare murmured as soon as she was gone. "So many strange events." He lifted his head to look at the three of them, standing by the wall. "And least of all this land of Freedonia, where a woman can be a doctor?"

"Where a woman can do what she likes," Martha responded.

"You, Sir Doctor," Shakespeare continued, turning on him. "You bring you daughter with you. Why does the child not stay at home, safe?"

"I like traveling with Dad," Luna replied quietly. Shakespeare eyed her carefully.

"Even after you see what you've seen?" the playwright countered. Luna frowned, in part because the question did bother her and in part because Shakespeare hadn't specified what she saw. Could he tell she saw Time or was he just being deliberately vague? "You see more than just death, I think," Shakespeare finished, turning on her dad and leaving Luna mulling over his words.

"And yourself, Doctor. A man so young. How can you have eyes so old?"

"I do a lot of reading," the Doctor replied blandly. A hint of a smile touched Shakespeare's face.

"A tried reply, yeah. That's what I do." The Doctor smiled briefly in return. "And you." He was back to Martha. "You look at them like you're surprised they exist, both of them. They're a much as a puzzled to you as he is to me." Luna noted that he left her out, and wondered if that was because she didn't puzzle him or he just didn't care. 'Child' meant harmless and unimportant to some, she knew; that philosophy had kept her fed on the streets.

"I think we should call it a night," Martha said, sounding uncomfortable. She gave Shakespeare a look and strode out, leaving Luna and her dad.

"I must to work," Shakespeare said. "I have a play to complete." He got up, moving back to behind his desk. Luna shifted, heading for the door. Her dad followed her, holding her hand protectively. "I'll get my answers tomorrow, Doctor. And I'll discover why this constant performance of yours. Of both of you." Luna had the feeling this time he wasn't talking about Martha.

Luna waited as her dad turned in the doorway, looking at Shakespeare. "All the world's a stage," he replied. Shakespeare looked thoughtful.

"Hmm. I might use that. Good night, Doctor."

Luna tugged her dad's hand, loath to leave Martha alone for too long. "Nighty night, Shakespeare," her dad replied, letting Luna pull him across the landing.

"Who's not right?" the Doctor asked his daughter once they were out of the room.

"The maid. I couldn't see her," Luna replied, frowning. "She was there, but it was blurred; I couldn't make out anything. I don't know why."

"You couldn't see her?" the Doctor repeated. Luna shook her head.

"I don't know why. I could see everything around her, but I couldn't see what the gold actually showed."

"We'll keep an eye out then," her dad said, smiling down at her. Luna smiled back.

"That was Shakespeare," she noted after a moment.

"Yes it was," the Doctor replied, grinning. "Genius, he really is. Amazing human. Lovely to meet him."

"Dad?"

"Hmm?"

"He's psychic, isn't he?"

"Barely. Why?"

"Just wondering about stuff. He got me thinking."

"About?"

"Me. You. The Time Lords. We never really talk about that. I'm just curious."

The Doctor nodded. He and Luna were close, very close. He loved her with both his hearts and would die before he'd let anyone harm her. But still, their topics of conversation didn't often contain their personal pasts. For the Doctor the loss of everyone was still to near. For Luna, she was very close to being alone again and she didn't want to push her only family away.

"As soon as we're finished here, Lunette, we'll sit down and have some proper father/daughter time," the Doctor promised.

"That doesn't involve us running for our lives?" Luna asked dryly.

"Exactly."

* * *

Martha had lit the candles in their room by the time they got there. It was rather small, with a small bed and a bench and a wardrobe, but that was it.

"Not exactly five star," Martha said. The Doctor shrugged.

"Oh, it'll do. I've seen worse."

"I haven't even got a toothbrush," she told him. The Doctor let go of Luna's hand to fish one out of a pocket. Luna ignored him and sat on the bed. It was springy and surprisingly comfortable. She bounced a few times for good measure.

"So, who's going where?" Martha asked a tad uncomfortably. "I mean, there's only one bed."

"We'll manage," the Doctor replied, unbuttoning his suit top. "Come on."

"Dad…" Luna muttered. "Nice to her, remember?" The Doctor frowned. "Besides, it's not really big enough for three people."

"Oh, I suppose… I'll take the floor," he replied. It wasn't as if he really needed to sleep anyways.

"So, magic and stuff," Martha said, taking the Doctor's spot on the bed. "It's all a bit "Harry Potter" isn't it?"

The Doctor looked over at her. "Wait til you read book seven," he told her. "Ooh. I cried."

"Harry Potter?" Luna asked, interested. "What about him?" Martha looked at her.

"Him?"

"The Boy-Who-Lived. Xeno used to tell me stories," Luna replied. Martha gaped.

"Wait, that's real?"

"Yes, course it is," Luna responded.

"Magic's real?" she pressed on. Luna nodded, fishing something out of her own coat pocket. Martha turned to the Doctor.

"Magic's real?" she repeated.

"Well…" the Doctor replied. "They harvest the ambient energy in the air and focus it using hand motions and words to help them control it so it's actually just advanced organic energy control of-" He rattled off the explanation, then looked at Luna who was searching for something in a pocket and sighed. "Yes. Magic's real."

"Found it," Luna said, pulling something out of a bigger-on-the-inside pocket. It was one of her pet projects, since the Doctor refused to let her go down somewhere and just buy a wand, claiming most of them were ill made and wouldn't be compatible with technology or multiple times/planets. Instead she had spent the past year scavenging around the TARDIS and building her own. It was marbled metal and wood, about twelve inches long, and had a ring around it where her thumb rested with buttons and an on/off switch. She was very proud of it.

"Um, what is it exactly?" Martha asked. Luna smiled.

"My sonic wand."

"Of course!" the Doctor shouted, startling both the girls. "Gah, I'm thick. It's obvious!"

"What's obvious?" Martha responded, trying to keep up with the new tangent. Luna slipped her wand away.

"You!" the Doctor replied, pointing at Luna. She tilted her head.

"Me?"

"You're Luna Lovegood! Well, I mean, you're not, obviously, but I should have noticed it before. It's been right there!"

"Hang on, your daughter is a character from a popular children's book series back home?" Martha asked. The Doctor nodded.

"No. Well, yes, but she's not."

"How does that work?"

"Excuse me?" Luna broke it. "I'm right here." The Doctor and Martha stared.

"Sorry, Lunette," the Doctor said, moving to sit by her on the bed. "Just... overexcited."

"I'm _not_ Luna Lovegood. I am Luna Etoile and I'm a Time Lady and I'm your daughter. Not Xeno's"

"Yes," the Doctor agreed, and Martha shifted away, feeling like she was interrupting something. "Yes you are, sorry Lunette." Luna leaned into him and he reached one arm around her in a hug. They stayed there until Martha, feeling useless, broke the silence.

"So they're real witches?" she asked.

"Course not," the Doctor replied, standing up and moving to the foot of the bed. "Not properly. Looks like witchcraft, but it isn't."

"Then what is it?"

"There is such a thing as psychic energy," Luna pointed out, lying down next to Martha.

"But a human couldn't channel it," her dad replied. "Not without a generator the size of Taunton and anyone would've spotted that."

"Humans can be decidedly thick," Luna muttered.

"So we're missing something, yeah?" Martha asked, ignoring Luna's friendly jibe. The Doctor nodded.

"Yup. Nothing we can do about it now though; you should sleep. I'll keep an eye out," he promised, settling on the floor at the foot of the bed. Martha nodded and blew out the candle.

* * *

Reviews are, as always, welcome.


	10. Chapter 10

Disclaimer: I own neither Harry Potter nor Doctor Who

* * *

It was dark, the middle of the night. The Doctor sat on a wooden floor at the foot of a rather small bed, facing a door. He was wide-awake, listening carefully for something out of the ordinary and putting his Time Lord senses to good use. Not that he could hear anything different. Or rather, he couldn't pick out anything.

Although that loud, high pitched shriek he could certainly pick out.

He was up instantly, running across the landing. Luna and Martha sat up abruptly, unceremoniously awoken by the scream. They chased after him, following the sound into Shakespeare's room.

The innkeeper was lying dead in the doorway. Luna kneeled next to the Doctor, who was checking for a pulse. Martha rushed past them, watching something out the window. Shakespeare was still behind his desk, pages of the manuscript strewn out on the table and looking like he had just woken up. He was glancing back and forth between them, trying to figure out what was going on.

"She's dead?" Luna asked for confirmation. The Doctor nodded.

"She died of fright," he said with surprise.

"Doctor?" Martha called from the window. He hurried over, leaning out with her. Luna gave the body one last look and stood up, moving over to the desk.

"What did you see?" the Doctor demanded.

"A witch."

* * *

Nobody slept after that. It wasn't long until sunup anyways and the four stayed in Shakespeare's room. They had cleared away the body and ordered drinks and made small talk until the sun rose. No one was quite comfortable talking about witches and death in the dark.

Finally, the subject of conversation turned back to the innkeeper.

"Sweet Dolly Bailey. She set out three bouts of the plague in this place; we all ran like rats," Shakespeare lamented. "What could have scared her so? She had such enormous spirit."

"Rage, rage against the dying of the light," the Doctor murmured in response. Shakespeare looked impressed.

"I might use that."

"You can't," the Doctor replied. "It's someone else's."

"Dylan Thomas," Luna nodded. "He was interesting. Welsh."

"But the thing is, Lynley drowned on dry land, Dolly died of fright, and they were both connected to you," Martha pointed out, dragging the conversation back on topic.

"Are you accusing me?" Shakespeare responded, defensive.

"No," Martha placated. "But I saw a witch, big as you like, flying cackling away. And you've written about witches."

"I have?" Shakespeare asked, confused. "When was that?"

"Not quite yet," the Doctor murmured to her.

"1606," Luna whispered. "Give it a few years; wait for James I."

"Peter Streete spoke of witches," Shakespeare mused, unaware of the quick conversation that had just taken place.

"Who's Peter Streete?" Martha asked.

"Our builder," Shakespeare replied, watching them. "He sketched the plans for the Globe."

"The architect?" the Doctor asked quietly, thinking aloud. "Hold on. The architect. The architect! The Globe! Come on!"

That was the only explanation they got as the Doctor raced out the door. Martha and Luna shared a look before chasing after him, leaving Shakespeare to trail along behind. No one paid them much mind as they raced through the streets in the early morning light, instead carrying out their business as if it happened all the time. Then again, it was London.

They entered the renowned theatre through the stage door, treading their way through prop storage and entering onto the stage. It was empty, of course – it would be until the play that evening. For the moment it had been cleaned up and left alone, meaning they were the only ones in the proscenium. Luna sat on the edge of the stage, legs kicking lazily against the wood while Martha and Shakespeare stood above her and the Doctor paced in the pit, looking around.

"Columns there, and fourteen sides," he said, speaking half to his audience and half to himself. Then he frowned, looking at Shakespeare. "I've always wondered, but I've never asked. Tell me, Will, why fourteen sides?"

"It was the shape Peter Streete thought best, that's all," Shakespeare replied, waving a hand at the structure. "Said it carried the sound well."

"Fourteen," the Doctor repeated. "Why does that ring a bell? Fourteen..."

"There's fourteen lines in a sonnet," Martha tried.

"So there is," the Doctor replied turning to face them. "Good point."

"Words and shapes, same design," Luna connected. The Doctor nodded, pacing now.

"Fourteen lines, fourteen sides, fourteen facets… Tetradecagon, think, think, think! Words, letters, numbers, lines!" Each word was accompanied by a hand to the top of his head, pounding it as he tried to work it through out loud.

"This is just a theatre," Shakespeare interrupted, sounding the slightest bit annoyed. The Doctor turned to him immediately.

"Oh, yeah, but a theatre's magic, isn't it?" he asked rhetorically. "You should know. You stand on this stage, say the right words with the right emphasis at the right time… You can make men weep."

"Or laugh, or tremble in fear. You could change them," Luna continued, picking up on the thread.

"Change them," her dad repeated, realization dawning. "You can change people's minds just with words in this place. And if you exaggerate that…"

"Like your police box," Martha pointed out as he turned around, facing the empty stands. "Small, wooden box with all that power inside."

"Oh, Martha Jones, I like you," the Doctor told her, looking at the three up on stage. Luna grinned. Brilliant Martha Jones. "Tell you what though, Peter Street would know. Can I talk to him?"

"You won't get an answer," Shakespeare replied, looking vaguely impressed with their reasoning, if not a little lost. "A month after finishing this place he lost his mind."

"Why?" Luna asked, trying to recall what she knew about the time period they were in, which was very little.

"What happened?" Martha queried at the same time.

Shakespeare looked over at the two of them as Luna got to her feet. "He started raving about witches, hearing voices, babbling," the playwright replied. "His mind was addled."

"Where is he now?" the Doctor asked.

"Bedlam," Shakespeare replied.

"What's Bedlam?" Martha asked, looking between them.

"Bethlem Hospital," Shakespeare told her.

"The madhouse," Luna said.

"We've got to go there, right now," the Doctor ordered, already making his way towards the exit. "Come on!"

It was about a half hour walk across the river to Bishopsgate, where the Belthem Royal Hopital stood. They could hear cries a block away, and by the time the Doctor had gotten them inside with a bit of help from the psychic paper the wails were overpowering. A large, heavily mustached man carrying a whip led them inside, unlocking barred doors as they went and relocking them behind. The ceiling was low, and the entire building stank and was in disrepair. Grimy hands reached through bars, people pleading from inside cells and cages, some manacled to the walls. Luna shivered, grabbing her dad's hand discretely.

She had seen places similar - dirty, decrepit buildings full of hungry, sick people. The Pack had been lucky enough to have a proper building, away from rival gangs but near enough major roads to pick pockets and exploit the tourists. Not everyone out on the streets was so lucky. She had seen plenty of people die out there, people who lived in places like this.

"Does my lord Doctor wish some entertainment while he waits?" the warden asked them, leading them down the halls and ignoring the pleading patients. "I can whip the madmen. They'll put on a good show for you. Bandog and Bedlam."

"No, I don't," the Doctor replied, scowling at the bars that kept the inmates contained. The warden shrugged and held out a hand, stopping them.

"Wait here, my lords, while I, uh, make him decent for the ladies." He moved off, beating the bars with the butt of his whip. Martha looked slightly sick. Luna continued to keep close to her dad.

"So this is what you call a hospital?" the doctor-in-training asked, looking around angrily. "Where the patients are whipped to entertain the gentry?" She turned to Shakespeare. "And you put your _friend_ in here?"

"Oh, it's all so different in Freedonia," the playwright replied cynically.

"But you're clever!" Martha returned hotly. "Do you honestly think this place is any good?"

"I've been mad; I've lost my mind," Shakespeare replied quietly. "Fear of this place set me right again. Serves its purpose."

"Mad in what way?" Martha asked.

"You lost your son," the Doctor said quietly, looking away from the suffering people to focus on his companions, eyes full of age and emotion. Shakespeare nodded briefly.

"My only boy. The Black Death took him," he replied. "I wasn't even there."

"I didn't know. I'm sorry," Martha said.

"Made me question everything," Shakespeare continued as if he hadn't heard. "The futility of this fleeting existence, to be or not to be." He paused, replaying the phrase. "Oh, that's quite good."

"You should write that down," the Doctor recommended. Shakespeare mulled it over.

"Maybe not. A bit pretentious?" he asked, glancing over at the Doctor. The Time Lord shrugged.

"This way, my lord!" the warden called from down the hall, ending the conversation. He stood next to the open cell door, gesturing for them to come along and enter. The four shared looks and entered the cell.

Peter Streete had seen better days. He was grimy and his clothes hung off his spindly frame. The cell wasn't any nicer; it was a filthy as its occupant and the ceiling was crumbling. Streete was bent over his hands, examining his fingers.

"They can be dangerous, my lord," the warden warned. "Don't know their own strength."

"I think it helps if you don't whip them," the Doctor replied harshly. "Now get out!" The warden nodded quickly and left, closing and locking the door behind them. Luna shivered.

"Peter?" the Doctor called softly the instant the warden was gone. He moved forward carefully to kneel in front of the architect. "Peter Streete?"

"He's the same as he was. You'll get nothing out of him," Shakespeare told them.

"Peter," the Doctor tried again, gently placing a hand on the man's shoulder. His head shot up.

He was trembling, staring around with wide, strangely luminescent eyes. He hadn't shaved for a bit, and his teeth were in terrible shape. He looked like a small animal caught by a pack of dogs, Luna thought, or like a kid facing a gang alone. He stared up at the Doctor, caught by the alien's gaze. Carefully, trying not to startle him, the Doctor gently places his hands on either side of the man's head, entering his mind.

"Peter, I'm the Doctor," he said quietly, closing his eyes for the briefest moment. "Go into the past. One year ago. Let your mind go back. Back to when everything was fine and shining." He was speaking softly, brushing the man's mind soothingly and easing him into a relaxed state. "Everything that happened in this year since happened to somebody else. It's just a story. A winter's tale. Let go." And the man did. He went limp, letting the Doctor ease him down. "That's it," the alien murmured softly. "Just let go." Peter lay down, looking up at the Doctor in equal fear and awe. Once the Doctor knew he had the man's attention fully, he stood up. "Tell me the story, Peter," he ordered. "Tell me about the witches."

"Witches spoke to Peter," the madman said, half-whispering and babbling. "In the night, they whispered, they whispered…" His hand twitched by his ear, illustrating his story. Behind him, Luna, Martha, and Shakespeare watched him. He didn't notice them at all. He noticed nothing, really. His timeline was completely isolated, blurred at points as if it had been influenced along a different path by something Luna couldn't make out. "Got Peter to build the Globe to their design, their design! The fourteen walls." He gave a little laugh. "Always fourteen. And when the work was done… They snapped poor Peter's wits."

"Where did Peter see the witches? Where in the city?" the Doctor pressed. Peter breathed heavily, eyes suddenly jumping away to stare at the wall. "Peter, tell me," the Doctor ordered, crouching down. "You've got to tell me. Where were they?"

He breathed again, eyes flicking up to meet the Doctor's. "All Hallows Street."

Luna saw it coming, saw the gold ripple with a new future. A new person in the web. Then there was someone else in the small, locked cell.

"Too many words!" the hag hissed from behind the Doctor, startling him away from the madman. She was wrinkled and had a hooked nose, deep set eyes, long filthy fingernails, lanky hair. She wore a black frock that hid her thin, emancipated form, but her bony hands were outstretched as she watched the Doctor and his companions.

"What the hell?" Martha exclaimed, jumping a little. Luna relaxed though, just the littlest bit. This wasn't as bad as the madhouse. This was alien, different, otherworldly. This she could deal with.

"Just one touch," the crone sang. "One touch of the heart." She held out one hand for all to see before reaching down to gently touch Peter in the middle of the chest.

"No!" the Doctor shouted, but he couldn't do anything. Luna could already see the gold around Peter fading; he was gone. The crone, though, she was different, like the maid – there, yes, but blurred. Luna found she wasn't too surprised. The three witches, very close, right now…

"A witch!" Shakespeare shouted, pointing at the gasping woman. "I'm seeing a witch!"

"Now who would be next, hmm?" the crone asked, looking around. Martha and Shakespeare were shocked and scared, Luna was worried but intrigued, and the Doctor was angry and thinking. "Just one touch. Oh, I'll stop your frantic hearts. Poor, fragile mortals."

"Let us out!" Martha screamed, shaking the barred door. "Let us out!"

"That's not going to work; the whole building's shouting that," the Doctor told her calmly.

"And who would die first, hmm?" the witch asked again, examining a hand. The Doctor gave her a look.

"Well, if you're looking for volunteers…"

"Dad!" Luna protested as Martha shouted, "No, don't!" She trusted him, of course, and knew he'd be fine; he always was in the end. But still, there was always that little spike of fear that someday he'd take on something too big and then he'd be a new person who maybe didn't want to be her Dad or that he wouldn't be able to change. That he'd really be gone, for good. "Please be careful," she requested.

"Oh, you're talking again," he said brightly. She scowled. "I'll be careful," he amended.

"Doctor, can you stop her?" Shakespeare asked carefully. The witch scoffed.

"No mortal has power over me! It'll be your daughter next; she won't miss Daddy long," the crone croaked.

"There's a power in words," the Doctor started quietly, angrily. No one threatened Luna, not ever, not if he could do anything about it. He would protect her until he had used every single regeneration and past that. Nothing would keep him from that. "If I can find the right one, if I can just know you…"

"None on Earth has knowledge of us," the crone told him, looking apprehensive now.

"Well, it's a good thing I'm here," the Doctor told her savagely, watching the tiny spark of fear that lit in her eyes. "Now… think, think, think. Humanoid, female, uses shapes and words to channel energy…"

"Old," Luna continued. "Fourteen's important."

"Ah!" the Doctor shouted. "Of course, fourteen! That's it's fourteen. The fourteen stars of the Rexel planetary configuration! Creature, I name you Carrionite!"

The Carrionite shrieked, a testimony to the Doctor's correct conclusion. She folded in on herself, bursting into light, stretching and shrinking and then she was gone. Everyone let out a breath of relief.

"Rexel?" Luna asked.

"Bout six galaxies away and two million years from now it'll be a great tourist stop. I'll take you sometime," the Doctor promised.

"What did you do?" Martha asked hesitantly.

"I named her," the Doctor replied, looking at the place where she had been standing. "The power of a name. That's old magic." Time Lord magic, in a way. One of the reasons a Time Lord never shared their name with just anyone.

"Magic," Shakespeare repeated.

"Not really," Luna said. "Not for them, at least." The Doctor shrugged.

"Well, it's just a different sort of science. You lot, you chose mathematics. Given the right string of numbers, the right equation, you can split the atom. The Carrionites use words instead."

"Use them for what?" Shakespeare asked, not certain he wanted to know the answer.

"The end of the world."

They left quickly, getting out before the warden found them with the dead man. Martha and Shakespeare led the way back, and the Doctor hung back with Luna. The girl relaxed once they left the Hospital, releasing her dad's hand almost apologetically. The Doctor looked down at her, worried.

"Are you okay?" he asked softly. Luna sighed, looking around at the people walking by, unaware.

"It's just so... I can see what they could have done. What they _should've_ done. They're just sick." She paused, looking up at him with wide silver eyes. "We talk with aliens, see planets and worlds and cultures that no one else has seen, fight terrifying creatures. And it's okay, 'cos we can fight it. But this, _that_… they're the same species, all they need is some help, someone to care. And then look at what they do to each other."

The Doctor nodded slowly. He understood perfectly. He loved that race, the humans. He loved their planet; Earth was his second home after the TARDIS now that Gallifrey was gone. And if he was being honest, Earth had been his second home _before _Gallifrey had burned. And yet… they could be so terrible. Hateful and hurtful and very dark. "Sometimes," he said softly, "humans are the biggest monsters of all." He gently grasped his daughter's hand, a simple act. But it had so much meaning. Don't worry, I'll protect you; it's okay, I'll keep you safe; I'll be here for you, I promise. Luna smiled.

"Thank you," she said softly, aware of what the gesture meant. Her dad smiled back, and they moved to catch up to the other two.

* * *

They returned to Shakespeare's room at the inn armed with new information and with more to worry about.

"The Carrionites disappeared way back at the dawn of the universe," the Doctor told them, pacing. "Nobody was sure if they were real or legend."

"I'm going for real," Shakespeare said wryly. Martha leaned against the vanity and Luna sat next to her, following her dad's pacing with her eyes.

"What do they want?" Martha asked, focusing on the Doctor. He crossed the room again.

"A new empire on Earth," he answered, coming to a stop. "A world of bones and blood and witchcraft."

"How?" Martha asked bluntly. The Doctor looked from her to Shakespeare.

"I'm looking at the man with the words," he said. Shakespeare looked at him surprised.

"Me? But I've done nothing."

"They needed words to free them," Luna told him.

"What were you doing last night?" Martha asked, following the Time Lords' train of thought. "When that Carrionite was in the room."

"Finishing the play," the playwright replied hotly. A spark of understanding lit in the Doctor's eyes and Luna could see where it was going.

"What happens at the very end, the last page?" she asked him. Shakespeare shrugged.

"The boys get the girls, they have a bit of a dance, it's all as funny and thought-provoking as usual," he answered, trying to see where the interrogation was going. Then he paused, trying to recall. "Except those last few lines. Funny thing is, I don't actually remember writing them."

The Doctor stood, only partially surprised. "That's it," he said, becoming more animated as he worked it out. "They used you. They gave you the final words. Like a spell, like a code. _Love's Labour's Won_, it's a weapon! The right combination of words spoken in the right place with the shape of the Globe as an energy converter! The play's the thing!" He turned away to rattle off instructions before turning back to the playwright quickly. "And yes, you can have that."

"So what do we do?" Martha asked, getting into the excitement. The Doctor grinned. He really would like a bit of peace every now and then, but nothing beat the thrill of the chase, working against the clock to solve the puzzle.

"Will, have you got a map?"

* * *

"All Hallows Street, there it is," the Doctor pointed out, smoothing down the map Shakespeare had procured. "Luna, we'll track them down."

"Why bring your daughter?" Shakespeare asked, confused. "She's just a child."

"I'm more immune to their magic than you two," the girl replied. The Doctor nodded, barely sparing them a glance.

"Will, Martha, you get to the Globe. Whatever you do, stop that play!"

Shakespeare nodded, standing and reaching out to shake the Doctor's hand. "We'll do it. All these years, I've been the cleverest man around. Next to you, I know nothing."

"Well don't complain," Martha told him. He grinned.

"I'm not!" He nodded to the Doctor and Luna. "Good luck Doctor, Luna-child."

"Good luck, Shakespeare," the chorused, moving around Martha. The Doctor grabbed his coat.

"Once more unto the breach!" he called on his way out the door. Luna chased after him. There they were again, she and her dad, saving the world. He really did attract trouble like a magnet.

"I like that!" the playwright called after them. "Wait a minute, that's one of mine." The Doctor poked his head back in, looking faintly amused.

"Oh, just shift," he ordered them. Martha and Shakespeare grinned at each other and followed the Doctor out the door.

* * *

Not one of my personal favorites, but I've been told I'm too picky and over-think everything. I'm looking forward to next chapter. And I'm excited about Gridlock. _That_ was fun to adapt.

Reviews are, as always, welcome.


	11. Chapter 11

Disclaimer: I own neither Harry Potter nor Doctor Who

* * *

The two Time Lords threaded their way through the thinning crowds to All Hallows Street. Nothing on the road stood out as different or extraterrestrial, and Luna and her dad looked around for a moment, wondering where they were supposed to go.

"Which house?" Luna asked finally. As if in answer, the door across from them opened. The two shared a look and entered cautiously.

Disturbing was a good word to describe the place. Or creepy. A potion bubbled in one corner, and cobwebs hung abound. There was dried blood on the floor, a reminder of the Carrionite's latest meal. Standing across the room was the maid from the inn, still impossible to make out in the gold. She watched them enter.

"I take it we're expected?" the Doctor asked genially, hands in his pockets.

"Oh, I think death has been waiting for you a very long time," the maid replied.

"Could we name her now or does that not work anymore?" Luna asked. The Carrionite smirked.

"The power of a name works only once," she answered, lifting a hand to point at the girl. "Observe: Across the stars your life is strewn, your family with it, petite Lune."

Luna hissed and collapsed. Power of a name. It felt like something ice cold had reached into the sensitive spot between her hearts and _pulled_, tugging on something immensely important, trying to rip it away. Her vision faded, and she struggled to stay fully conscious. Her dad crouched by her immediately, checking her over, worried. The Carrionite watched, looking faintly annoyed.

"What have you done?" the Doctor demanded once he was certain that she wasn't in any immediate danger. He glared up at the Carrionite, angry and concerned and feeling very parental, which didn't often happen. The woman looked away from the two, choosing to examine her finger instead.

"It's curious," the witch said offhandedly instead of answering. "Her name has less impact. She's quite… different." The witch looked back at them, shifting her focus to the Doctor, who watched her with a cold gleam in his eye. She lunged forward suddenly, pointing at him.

"And as for you, Sir Doctor." She paused while he stared at her, feeling the faintest shiver of apprehension in face of his unchanging glare. Luna tried to move, to help, but she was unable to do anything but watch while the Carrionite moved back in surprise. "Fascinating. There is no name. Why would a man hide his tile in such despair?" She paused for a moment, then regained her haughtiness. "But look, there's still one word with a power that aches."

"The naming won't work on me," he told her coldly.

"But your heat grows cold," she replied with fake sympathy. "The north wind blows, and carries down the distant… Rose?"

The Doctor stood up, suddenly very angry. "Oh, big mistake," he said quietly, harshly. "You've hurt my daughter. You're trying to destroy this world, which I am very fond of. And that name… that name keeps me fighting." He wasn't quiet anymore, he was biting, blazing. Ice to fire. "The Carrionites vanished. Where did you go?"

"The Eternals found the right word to banish us into deep darkness," the witch replied with annoyance, turning her back towards him and moving towards the window.

"Then how did you escape?" he asked.

"New words," she answered gleefully, spinning to face him. "New and glittering, from a mind like no other."

"Shakespeare," Luna coughed, trying to get up again. Her dad needed her, and she was stuck, weak, like she had been last time.

"His son perished," the Carrionite said, paying the girl no mind. She wasn't a threat, just a little human child out of her time. "The grief of a genius, grief without measure. Madness enough to allow us entrance."

"How many of you?" the Doctor demanded, forcing himself to ignore the urge to go back and help his daughter up. He could feel her disgust at her helplessness through their bond.

"Just the three. But the play tonight shall restore the rest. Then the human race will be purged as pestilence, and from this world we will lead the universe back into the old ways of blood and magic."

"Busy schedule," the Doctor said nonchalantly. "But first, you've got to get past me." There was a threat in the words despite the calm, almost amicable tone.

"That should be a pleasure," the witch responded huskily. "Considering my enemy has such a handsome shape." She moved closer, one hand stroking down his face, the other brushing his hair.

"Now that's one form of magic that's definitely not gonna work on me," he told her, unmoved in any way as she leaned in. She paused, and when she spoke again any trace of seduction was gone.

"Oh, we'll see." There was a snip of scissors, and she glided back, holding a few strands of his hair.

"What was that, what did you do?" he asked, fingers probing the back of his head.

"Souvenir," she replied, holding it up for him to see.

"Well give it back!" The witch dodged out of the way, flying backwards through the opening windows to hover just outside his reach. The Doctor caught himself on the window frame as she hung just out of reach. "That's just cheating," he grumbled.

The Carrionite outside the window looked down at him smirking faintly. From a pocket in her dark, draping dress she pulled a puppet made of canvas and twine, showing it to the Time Lord. "Behold, Doctor. Men to Carrionites are nothing but puppets." She held the doll with one hand and with the other tied the strands of his hair around the puppet.

"Now, you might call that magic; I'd call that a DNA replication module," he said quickly, almost a warning. The Carrionite scoffed.

"What use is your science now?" she asked simply. Luna shifted again, and found herself able to move. She sat up carefully, regaining strength. The Carrionite caught her eye and smiled cruelly. "Say goodbye!" She pulled out the scissors again, and without any warning she impaled the Doctor's doll. The Time Lord cried out, falling, and the Carrionite flew off with a gleeful cackle.

"Dad!" Luna shouted, panicking for a moment and jumping to her feet. In her mind the bond was still perfectly strong though, and logic reinstated itself. As she hurried over to him he propped himself up on his hands. "Two hearts," she told him reproachfully. Her dad smiled back looking slightly pained.

"But I've only got one working," he pointed out, getting up. He made it to his feet only to double over again with another cry.

"What do you need?" Luna asked. The Doctor winced, breathing hard through gritted teeth.

"How do they all cope?" he asked her before focusing. "Right, sorry. Hit my back," he ordered, and Luna put her fist into his back right where his left heart was. He groaned. "Front now." She hit him again, and he stood up, shaking himself off. "Much better," he delclared and then turned to her, concerned. "Are you alright?"

Luna nodded. "I'm fine, Dad."

"Well then," he said, unsure for a moment. But he – they - were needed elsewhere, and he settled for grabbing his daughter's hand. "Come on, the Globe!"

* * *

Things at the Globe were not going as planned. Or rather, they weren't going as the Doctor had planned and were instead following the Carrionite's design. Lights and smoke spiraled up from the theatre as they raced across London, lighting it like a beacon. The two pushed through the pedestrians, not minding who they ran over in their sprint towards the stage door entrance.

Martha and Shakespeare were both backstage, Shakespeare lying half-unconscious and Martha fumbling with something agitatedly. Shakespeare stirred, rubbing his head.

"Stop the play!" was the first thing the Doctor said to them as he and Luna ran up. Inside the theatre the public was panicking loudly; obviously the play hadn't been halted. "I think that was it. Yeah, I said stop the play!"

"I hit my head," Shakespeare muttered. The Doctor sighed.

"Yeah, don't rub it, you'll go bald," he told the playwright as Martha freed herself from the net she'd been tangled in. A sudden shriek pierced the still-calm atmosphere of backstage, and the Doctor spun around.

"I think that's my cue!" he shouted, coat flapping behind him as he dashed onstage. The three followed closely.

They all paused upon stepping out. The Globe was packed, and the doors were locked. The actors milled around on the stage, clueless, while people panicked in the stands and the pit. Hundreds of Carrionites spun about in the vortex above them, and the three who had been on Earth already laughed up at them, rejoicing.

"Come on, Will," the Doctor yelled over the crash of lightning and roar of the wind. "History needs you!"

"But what can I do?" the renowned playwright protested as the Doctor dragged him forward.

"Reverse it!" the Doctor ordered. Shakespeare looked at him, panicking along with everyone else in the Globe.

"How am I supposed to do that?" he demanded.

"Just talk," Luna told him from his other side. "The shape of the Globe gives the words their power."

"You're the wordsmith," the Doctor encouraged. "The one true genius, the only man clever enough to do it."

"But what words? I have none ready!" he protested. Both Luna and her dad looked at him like he was crazy.

"You're William Shakespeare!" Luna yelled at him.

"But these Carrionite phrases, they need such precision," Shakespeare responded hopelessly. The Doctor looked at him, pinning the playwright with his eyes.

"Trust yourself. When you're locked away in your room the words just come, don't they? Like magic." Luna and Martha stood back, letting the Doctor guide the man. "Words - the right sound, the right shape, the right rhythm, words that last forever! That's what you do, Will. You choose perfect words. Do it! Improvise!" He stepped away, giving Shakespeare center stage. The playwright stepped forward, head bowed against the wind momentarily while he gathered himself. Then, raising his head, he began.

"Close up this din of hateful, dire decay;  
Decomposition of your witches' plot!  
You thieve my brains, consider me your toy;  
My dotting Doctors tells me I am not!  
Foul Carrionite specters, cease your show,  
Between the points…" he trailed off, looking to the Doctor questioningly.

"7-6-1-3-9-0," the Time Lord rattled off. Shakespeare nodded and turned back to the cackling vortex of Carrionites, continuing.

"7-6-1-3-9-0!  
Banished like a tinker's cuss,  
I say to thee…" he paused again, at a loss. He turned to the Doctor, but the Time Lord just opened and closed his mouth repeatedly, running through thousands of words, trying to find one that fit the rhyming scheme. Vocabulary bigger than the Library, master of hundreds of languages, the world was about to end, and he was blanking!

"Expelliarmus?" Luna offered. Martha cried it out next to him, and he echoed her, as did Shakespeare and the other actors on stage

"Expelliarmus!" The shout rose above the din, and Luna grinned. Always a good one. Special, too, for some reason, but Luna didn't pay much attention to that.

Above them, the Carrionites began shrieking, the words working against them. They were spinning faster and faster, spiraling in a pillar. The stage doors behind them opened, sending pages flying out. _Love's Labour's Won._ The reason the lost play had never been found – it had disappeared with the Carrionites. And suddenly it was silent.

Then someone began clapping. One person, hesitantly, started to applaud. Then another. Then a third. Then the entire theatre was on its feet, whistling and cheering and clapping for all they were worth. Luna found one hand being taken by an actor she didn't know and the other by Shakespeare, and then they were bowing to the cheers. They smiled, coming down off the adrenaline high. It had been okay. Everyone had been okay.

* * *

They stayed at the inn one last night, though again they got little sleep. The next morning they were at the Globe making sure there was no lasting damage, but the magnificent theatre was unharmed. Martha and Shakespeare sat on stage, trading jokes, and Luna sat off to the side a bit, legs hanging off the stage.

It had been interesting. More dangerous than past adventures, or maybe Luna simply hadn't noticed the risks before. Maybe she'd been too young. She had grown though, and saw the universe's troubles more clearly. She found herself missing Will and his protective nature - it had always seemed like they kept out of trouble better when he was there. Her dad had never died and she'd never been hurt when it was the three of them.

Their time with Shakespeare had been more mystic than it normally was too, but Luna thought the reminders of the other half of her inheritance were nice. It was easy to forget, sometimes, how Time Lady was only half of who she was and that she was a witch too, with magic in her blood. Perhaps she should begin to learn more about that.

The Doctor entered then, breaking off both Luna's train of thought and Shakespeare's attempt to kiss Martha. He was wearing the silliest ruff and carrying some sort of skull.

"Nice prop store back there! I'm not sure about this though." He eyed the skull. "Reminds me of a Sycorax."

"Sycorax," Shakespeare repeated while Luna stood up. "Nice word. I'll have that off you as well."

"I should be on ten percent," the Doctor grumbled good-naturedly, handing the skull off to Luna. "How's your head?"

"Still aching," the playwright responded. The Doctor reached behind him and undid the ruff.

"Here, I got you this." He fastened it around Shakespeare's neck and stepped back, grabbing Luna's hand. "Wear that for a few days until it's better. Although, you might want to keep it."

"Suits you," Luna agreed, swinging her arm.

Martha took a moment to admire Shakespeare's new accessory, then looked to the Doctor. "What about the play?"

"Gone. I looked all over. Every single copy of _Love's Labour's Won_ went up in the sky," the Doctor answered.

"My lost masterpiece," Shakespeare said in agreement.

"You could write it up again," Martha offered. Luna made a face.

"Yeah, better not, Will," the Doctor said, averting a paradox of some sort. "There's still power in those words. Maybe it should stay forgotten."

"Oh, I've got new ideas," Shakespeare responded. "Perhaps it's time I wrote about fathers and sons. Or daughters," he said, nodding to Luna. "In memory of my boy, my precious Hamnet."

"Hamnet?" Martha repeated.

Shakespeare nodded. "That's him."

"Ham-_net_?"

"What's wrong with that?" he asked her.

"Anyway, time we were off," the Doctor interrupted. He picked up the glass ball that had belonged to the Carrionites. Inside it the three were screeching soundlessly and clawing at it, trying to get out. "I've got a nice attic in the TARDIS where this lot can scream for all eternity. And I've got to take Martha back to Freedonia."

"You mean travel on through time and space?" Shakespeare asked innocently.

"You what?" the Doctor asked, attempting to sound clueless.

"You're from another world, like the Carrionites," the playwright said, nodding at Luna and her dad. "And Martha's from the future. It's not hard to work out."

"That's…" The Doctor was at a loss for words. "Incredible. You are incredible."

"We're alike in many ways, Doctor," Shakespeare told him, and the two shared a look. Then Shakespeare turned back to Martha. "Martha, let me say goodbye to you with a new verse."

"You'll want to listen," Luna told her dad quietly. The Doctor looked at her with curriosity then turned back to Martha and Shakespeare.

"A sonnet for my dark lady." The Doctor gaped, looking at Luna. She just smiled. "Shall I compare thee to a summer's day? Thou art more lovely, more temperate: Rough winds do-"

"Will!" it was two of the actors, striding into the Globe. "Will, you'll never believe it. She's here!"

"She's turned up!" one of them interrupted.

"We're the talk of the town!" the first continued.

"Rosencrantz and Guildenstern," Luna muttered. Shakespeare perked a little, and she knew he heard.

"She heard about last night. She wants us to perform it again."

"Who?" Martha asked, intrigued.

"Her Majesty. She's here!"

At that moment a number of trumpets blared, heralding the arrival of Queen Elizabeth I. She marched in, face powdered, dress draping with embroidery and furs and other such expensive treats. The Doctor grinned, thinking it brilliant.

"Queen Elizabeth I!" he exclaimed, leaning forward eagerly. The Queen froze when she saw him, glaring icily.

"Doctor!" she hissed.

"What?" the Doctor asked.

"My sworn enemy," she declared.

"What?" the Doctor responded, confused now.

"Off with his head!" the Queen ordered.

"What?" the Doctor repeated, indignant.

"Dad!" Luna said, tugging his arm. "Never mind what, just run!"

The three dashed off, Martha calling out a goodbye to Will as they left. Behind them the Queen was shouting orders to her guards, and Shakespeare was just laughing. They ran through the streets, heading back towards the TARDIS. When the reached the familiar blue doors Martha stopped, panting slightly.

"What have you done to upset her?" she asked, confused. "And how come she didn't mention Luna?" The Doctor shrugged.

"How should I know? I haven't met her yet! That's time travel for you." He fumbled with the key, unlocking the door for them. "Still, can't wait to find out." Martha dashed in immediately, and Luna followed her. "That's something to look forward to." Luna reached out and dragged him in, shutting the door just as an arrow imbedded itself in the wood. Another time, another adventure, another quick getaway.

* * *

Some fun facts from my research for this chapter:

-The other theatre Shakespeare's plays were performed in (and Shakespeare himself performed in) was the Rose Theatre. The Rose has fourteen sides too, but it was demolished shortly after the Globe was built because there were only two play-performing theatres allowed at the time – the Globe and one in Middlesex, I believe. I don't remember why.

-There's archeological evidence that the Globe Theatre, the original one, had twenty sides, not fourteen. Also, the current Globe is two hundred meters away from where the original Globe sat.

-The original site for the Bethlem Royal Hospital (the first psychiatric hospital, which is still around today) is now a train station, the Liverpool St. Station. It is half an hour away from the Globe, according to Google maps.

Reviews are, as always, welcome.


	12. Chapter 12

Disclaimer: I own neither Harry Potter nor Doctor Who

* * *

The TARDIS spun gently in the Vortex, her three occupants scattered about the living ship. Martha had found a fountain garden after wandering about lost for an hour or two and was meandering through trickling streams and spouting fountains. She didn't worry about getting lost; the Doctor had promised that the TARDIS would keep her out of anything troublesome.

The other two were in a kitchen, one of many. Luna sat on the counter, legs kicking lazily against the cabinets and fingering the now-useless fob watch and key she always wore around her neck – mementos from her dead parents. Across from her the Doctor leaned against the fridge, watching.

"What should I tell you about?" the Doctor asked, breaking the silence.

"I'm not sure," Luna replied, tucking her necklace away. "I don't want to know what Gallifrey was like: you've already told me. I think… I want to know about you. Where were you born, who were your friends, when did you get the TARDIS? Where have you been, what have you seen? I want to know who you are, Dad. We never talk about that."

The Doctor was silent. Him. The Doctor. Theta Sigma. He wasn't sure even he knew who he was anymore. But Luna wanted to know, his only family and the only link to his people, to his eternally burning homeworld. And beneath the hurt he'd bottled up and shoved away was the urge to tell someone about everything, so it didn't die with him.

And at the same time he wanted to know about her. His daughter. She was a half in a world of wholes, something he'd never encountered before. He loved her of course, but he was still curious, always curious, and couldn't help but want to know more about her. But then, he always wanted to know more – it was part of what made him the Doctor.

"A question for a question," he offered, pushing himself away from the fridge to sit next to her.

"Alright," she agreed. "You first."

"Where were you born?"

"France. Mum was French. Where did you grow up?"

"Gallifrey," he answered cheekily. Luna elbowed him. "The southern ranges, with my cousins. All forty-something of them." He paused, wondering what to ask next. "What are you most afraid of?"

"Being left alone. After Mum died, I had nothing. It was horrible. If Will hadn't found me…" She trailed off. "I thought I had gotten over it, but then at the hospital- I thought I was going to be all alone again. And the Carrionites… I'm afraid that one day you won't be able to overcome it. And then I'll be alone again, without Will to find me."

"Oh, Lunette," the Doctor murmured, looping one arm around her. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I'll be more careful." She was right; he'd been throwing himself into danger again. Trying to show off to Martha, perhaps. But he wouldn't leave his girl alone. He couldn't stop trying to help any more than he could stop being curious, but he would be more careful, season his urge to save people with Luna's need for him to be her father.

"Who was your best friend?" Luna asked, comforted. She snuggled against him.

"Koschei. We were inseparable. Grew up together, went to the Academy together, promised we'd always be friends." The Doctor paused. "He's dead now, of course."

"I'm sorry," Luna said sincerely. The Doctor shrugged.

"We parted ways long before he died. Our lives took us in different directions, I suppose. Tell me about your father."

"That wasn't a question," Luna admonished. "But I'll tell you anyways." She tilted her head, trying to call back memories. "I don't remember before Daddy died very well. I remember… He was always there, protecting me. He was… tall, dark hair, a little bit of a beard, I think. Mum said I have his eyes. Why?"

"I was wondering if I knew him," the Doctor answered. "I doubt I did."

"Why not?"

Luna felt the Doctor shrug again behind her. "I left, as soon as possible. Right after I graduated, I stole a TARDIS and left. I just… I wanted to see the universe. Not stick around on Gallifrey and gather dust - that was what most Time Lords did after graduation. Graduate and that was it. Not me." He paused, closing his eyes. "I wasn't the only one. Koschei, my closest friends, we all planned to leave." Luna felt him sigh heavily, quietly. "Of everyone who could have been left, it was me." _Why me?_

The feeling reverberated down the bond. The Doctor would never say it aloud, but it was there. Luna answered. "Because you were the only one who could end it. The renegade, the one who would do it, no matter the cost, if it saved the universe." Her voice was soft, dreamy, healing. "And the universe needs you. I can see it, all around you. You're so special, to Time and the universe and every single being who ever has or will exist. So you survived. It's a... a fact that always surrounds you." She struggled to find words to describe something no one else could see, to put words to the river of golden Time that danced around the Doctor. "Every time I see you I can see that. It's…" She shook her head, unable to find the word to describe it.

The Doctor took a breath. Gallifrey wasn't perfect; it had never been perfect, especially at the end, but it was his home, his birthplace. And it was gone. Forever. He could never go back, never apologize to those who needed it, never fix his mistakes. _You don't know what you have until it's gone_, he thought, bitter yet resigned.

"Thank you, Lunette," he murmured. There was a lull in the conversation before he spoke again. "Do you like it here? Traveling with me?"

"Of course I do. I wouldn't give it up for anything. There's so much out there; I want to see it all."

"Even though it's dangerous? You pointed said it yourself: something could happen to me or to you."

"I love it, Dad." It was her question again."Who was Rose?"

The Doctor hadn't been expecting that. "Rose was…" Rose was Rose. Bright to his dark, innocent to his guilty, soft and untested to his jaded and old. She was his other half; she completed him. And she was gone. Trapped in a different world, where he could never finish that final message.

"I'm sorry it hurts so much," Luna said, shifting to sit in his lap and burrowing into his coat. The Doctor sighed again, wrapping his arms around her and resting his chin on the top of her head.

"You should know," he replied just as quietly. "It just… hurts. I don't think about it because then I can pretend. Pretend she's back home with Jackie and Mickey. Pretend I can see her again. Pretend she's safe and sound. And maybe she is; maybe she's safe and healing and happy. It's just…" He trailed off, unwilling to continue.

"She'd be my Mum. Like you're my Dad." It wasn't a question; it was one of those things she knew. The Doctor nodded slightly.

"Yeah. I think… if she were still here… she might just be your Mum."

Luna nodded, turning to rest her cheek against her father's chest, feeling his double heartbeat. The Doctor held her tightly. The conversation wasn't complete, but for now it was over.

* * *

No one was sure how much time had passed by the time they all regrouped in the console room. But then, time is relative in a time machine. Martha noted immediately that the two aliens were more somber but wisely chose not to question. She had been able to think a bit on her own and had agreed with Luna that bringing up old wounds wasn't something she ought to do. Not that she wasn't in awe of the extremely good looking alien who had invited her to travel along with him. She just decided that mooning over him would get her nowhere. Though it seemed rather pointless now, as her one trip was over and she'd be home again in moments.

The Doctor watched the medic-in-training slouch in the nav chair across the console from him. He hadn't quite been fair with her. Like he'd told Luna, he lied because it made it easy. Perhaps one last trip, a silent apology for a wrong she would never know about...

"Well," he started. "I know I promised one trip..." He watched her perk up instantly. "But I suppose we could stretch the definition. One trip to the past, one to the future? How do you fancy that?"

"No complaints from me," she replied with ill-disguised excitement. That was what he loved about his companions. Being able to show them how much was out there. It was scary, yes, but it was fantastic.

"What do you think, Luna? Another planet?"

"Can we go to yours?" Martha asked instantly. "Planet of the Time Lords, that's gotta be worth a look. What's it like? Outer space cities and stuff, great big temples and cathedrals, planets in the sky?" Luna wondered briefly if she should quiet the young woman, but her dad surprised her and answered the questions.

"It's beautiful, yeah," he told her. He was back, back on Gallifrey as a child, seeing it in his mind's eye as he spoke. "The sky's a burnt orange, with a citadel enclosed in a mighty glass dome, shining under the twin suns. Beyond that the mountains go on and on, forever. Slopes of deep red grass, capped with shining snow."

"Can we go there?" Martha asked, eyes shining. It was just a taste, and how sweet it was. The Doctor looked up at her, the picture-memory fading away to be replaced with the present.

"Nah!" the Doctor answered brightly. "I can see all of time and space. Why would I want to go home?"

"Then where?" Martha asked, slightly put down but still willing to go wherever because it was the Doctor and even though she didn't know him, or know why, she trusted him implicitly.

"How about, oh... New Earth? Year fifty billion fifty-three. Lovely year, dazzling city. What d'you say?"

"Can I drive?" Luna asked. The Doctor gave her a look.

"Not until you're sixteen. Hold down the stabilizers though, would you?" Luna did so, holding the blue stabilizers with one hand while tapping on two prominent purple buttons and winding a winch with the other. She was quite proud of her ability to fly the TARDIS, which she could do, despite her father's argument's otherwise. She understood his hesitancy though: her dad guarded his ship jealously. It was his most prized material possession, along with his sonic.

They landed with much less turbulence than the previous trip, materializing with the Doctor's favorite 'vworp vworp' sound. While the Time Lord bounced about impatiently, Luna pulled on her jacket. He gestured to the two of them, shepherding them out of the TARDIS, into the dazzling city of New New York.

And into the pouring rain.

"Very dazzling," Luna told him sweetly, wrapping her jacket tighter around her.

"A Time Lord version of dazzling," Martha echoed, zipping up her jacket, but there wasn't really any point, they were all already soaked.

"Listen to you two gripe," the Doctor responded cheerfully, squinting against the downpour. "A bit of rain never hurt anyone. Come on, let's get under cover."

They scurried through the empty streets, careful not to slip on the wet cobblestones. Two minutes later they found a rather beat up monitor booth under small overhang. The three crowded under it, glad to be out of the chilly rain.

"Now then," the Doctor said, sonicking the small monitor. It spluttered to life, a fuzzy picture of a woman taking shape. "Let's have a look shall we?"

The woman smiled at them, chatting on about the weather, but the Doctor ignored her, choosing instead to pull out his brainy specs and fiddle with the monitor until a number of holograms of New New York popped up on the screen.

"There we go!" the Doctor exclaimed. "That's more like it. We must have landed in the lower city, sorry about that," he said sheepishly. "That's what it looked like last time we were here."

"By last time you mean when you came here with Rose?" Martha asked. The Doctor looked over at her, brainy specs perched on his nose. He tucked them away.

"Well, sure. Is there a problem with that?"

"Not at all," Martha answered in fake cheer.

"Dad..." The Doctor looked down at Luna, then back at Martha, and sighed.

"Sorry," he muttered. "I've never been particularly skilled at the finer arts of conversation, sanity, or women."

"What are you two whispering about?" Martha called up to them.

"Nothing," they chorused back. Martha eyed them, drawing even with the two, but let it go.

"So this is where we're gonna be living? Billions of years from now? What are we humans like? Any different?"

Before either of the Time Lords could respond, a green booth-front popped open, exposing the smiling face of the man running it.

"Oh, you should've said something! How long have you been there?" he asked them. The man was grinning broadly. The three stopped, surprised. "Happy," he told them. "You want happy. Happy!"

A few yards over, another booth opened, this time manned by an older woman. "Customers," she crowed. "We've got customers!" A third booth opened upon her exclamation, and a young woman smiled out at them, welcoming.

"Happy happy!" the man called down to them, waving something at them. "Have some happy!"

"Anger. Buy some anger," the second vendor told them, holding out a small sticker-like object.

"It's mellow you want," the third persuaded. "Makes you feel all bendy and soft, all day long!"

"Don't go to them, they'll rip you off," the man told them conspiratorially. "Would you like some happy?

"Are they selling… drugs?" Martha asked hesitantly. The Doctor was scowling.

"I think they're selling moods," he replied.

"Same thing, innit?"

"That's disturbing," Luna murmured. Martha nodded.

The vendors continued with their calls until another person walked down the street, a pale teenage girl draped in black. She hesitated, then walked over to the young woman calling her gently.

"Come over here, that's right. Now, what can I get for you, dear?" the vendor asked kindly as the girl approached.

"I want some forget," she responded. The other two vendors hushed, watching.

"I've got forget, my darling. How much do you want forgetting?" the vendor questioned, looking through her stock.

"My mother and father. They went on the motorway," she answered. All three vendors made sympathetic noises.

"Try this," the vendor offered, handing over a small patch. "Forget 43. Two credits." The girl placed the payment in the young woman's outstretched hand.

"Wait, wait, hold on," the Doctor broke in, moving forward. "Why is that so bad, going on the motorway? Might drive back."

"And then you wouldn't know them. They'd be sad," Luna told her solemnly.

"Everyone goes on the motorway in the end," the girl replied, looking like she might cry. "People who drive off never come back." Without a second glance, she unpeeled the small, almost see through patch of forget.

"No, no, no don't!" the Doctor exclaimed, but the girl had already pressed it to her neck. Immediately her face brightened slightly and she stood up straighter. "What about your parents?"

"What about them?" the girl asked lightly.

"They've gone. On the motorway."

"Oh," she replied. "That's nice." She nodded her thanks to the vendor and walked off, back to wherever she had come from. The three travelers watched, varying degrees of shaken.

"So that's the human race five billion years in the future," Martha answered her own question, disturbed. "Off their heads on chemicals."

"You lot never change," the Doctor murmured so quietly his companion couldn't hear. Luna reached out and squeezed his hand.

The moment was shattered when a man carrying a gun rushed up behind Martha, grabbing her.

"I'm sorry," he called, brandishing his gun at Luna and the Doctor as a woman rushed up behind him, pointing her own gun at the two. "I'm really sorry, we just need three, that's all!"

"Let her go!" the Doctor ordered loudly, moving forwards as they backed away. "I'm warning you!"

"It's not our fault," the man told him, dragging Martha back while the woman covered for him.

"Whatever it is, I can help; I can help you, just let her go," the Doctor told them quickly, doing his best to infuse calm into the situation. It didn't help though, the woman held the gun out in front of them as they made their way towards an open door.

"We're sorry!" the woman said sincerely. The Doctor's pleas weren't helping. Luna reached into her pocket, pulling out her wand. The two kidnapping Martha were almost to the door, guns still leveled at them. Luna raised her wand, pointing it back at the two with the guns. Magic was always a nice thing to have on your side.

"Expelliarmus!" she shouted.

And then everything slowed down. Crystal clear and dusted with gold. Her dad, the raging storm; she could almost smell the rain and ozone. Martha scared and bewildered, dragged down the hallway. The kidnappers, just as scared as Martha, not certain what they were doing, but determined. It would turn out okay for them, Time promised. The gun, pulling away from the hand that held it and towards Luna. Her own hand on her wand, grasping the contraption. And then she was gone.

The Doctor watched as a second after the spell left her lips, Luna disappeared from sight and Martha was dragged through the door by the kidnappers. It clanged shut, and the gun rattled on the cobblestones. And then silence - the absence of sound resonating loudly through the damp, suddenly much emptier alleyway.

* * *

Reviews are, as always, welcome.


	13. Chapter 13

Disclaimer: I own neither Harry Potter nor Doctor Who

* * *

The switch in location was abrupt, and it took her a moment to focus. Luna gave herself a once over, but was completely unharmed. She hadn't lost anything, just… moved. She frowned, trying to figure out why, and then nodded as a possible explanation came to her. A different energy from a different planet would've affected the spell's energy and therefore intent. Add to that the fact she had most likely siphoned some of that energy into the sonic portion of her wand, it made sense that the coordinates programmed into her sonic from a previous experiment had deposited her in the room she stood in now.

The room was cavernous and looked like it hadn't been touched in years by anything living. Dust covered the floor, the walls, the cables strewn over every surface, and the broken machinery along the walls. No, wait, that wasn't quite right. She could feel someone nearby, a presence in Time that made her shiver, though not necessarily in a bad way. Intrigued, she slipped her wand away and moved forward.

At the end of the hall was a large tank of some sort, attached to more machines. But it wasn't the tank that interested her so much. It was the being inside the tank that captivated Luna.

He was old. Older than the Doctor, far older. The way Time moved around her father was one thing - the way the gold danced and sang all around him, showing her memories and things-to-come. But this, this was more. Not only did the energy surround the being, it was _part of_ the man. Well, he wasn't as much a man as a face now, but he had been once. She stood rooted on the spot, amazed at the way the once-man was both part of Time and yet out of Time completely. Almost like a Time Lord, except he wasn't.

And he was completely, totally, utterly _wrong _in the most wonderful, intriguing, impossible way. And despite how wrong he was, it didn't bother her at all. She idly wondered why.

"Are you going to stand there?" the face asked her politely. Luna frowned, trying to come up with a response.

"You're wrong," she told him finally. "But it's okay." She knew she sounded slightly mad, and a good bit rude, but it was the only thing she could think to say.

"I'm very old," the face offered. Luna shook her head.

"It's not only that." She tilted her head to one side. "You were made by Time. But you're not part of it. I don't understand."

"I don't either," the face admitted. He spoke slowly, his lips barely moving, and Luna could tell he was dying. What would happen when he did?

"All that energy," she murmured out loud. "Where would it go?"

"I don't know," the face said, seeming to know what she was talking about. "I'm keeping the Undercity running and out of the sea. What's your name?"

"Luna," she replied promptly. "Who are you?"

"I'm the Face of Boe," the Face of Boe replied.

"Fob," Luna responded. "Boeshane. A man with many names. Though only one face," she added, smiling at the face. The face stared back at her.

"You're very interesting, Luna," Boe said finally. He had never seen her quite that innocent.

"Thank you," Luna replied. "If you don't mind, could you tell me where I am?"

"This is Senate Hall, in the Overcity of New New York. You're here with the Doctor, aren't you?"

"Yes, I'm here with Dad. How did you know?"

"I felt him arrive. Novice Hame has gone to find him."

"He's worried," Luna told the face solemnly. "Because Martha's very far down in danger, and he doesn't know where I am, and he's stuck. But it will be okay. The gates will open and there will be light."

"You're a seer," Boe stated, unsurprised.

"You're a face," Luna replied politely, rocking back and forth on her heels.

"A very astute deduction," the face responded, amused. Luna grinned.

"I like you," Luna told him. "You seem familiar."

"I'm very old," the face repeated. "We'll meet again, sometime, someplace."

"Yes," Luna agreed, examining him intently, both in reality and in the gold. He was too old though, too bright, too big to see properly. Similar to the Carrionites, but in a good way. Not blurred, just blinding. She sighed lightly and let it go. Time didn't hold the answers to everything. "But I can't see it. You're too bright." The conversation faded into silence for a moment or two, and Luna took the opportunity to better examine the cavernous room. It stretched upwards into two sets of what seemed to be bleachers, raised a good twelve feet above the floor and filled with skeletons. Luna shivered slightly.

"They died long ago," Boe told her.

"How?" Luna asked, turning away from them to sit next to the face's tank.

"A new mood. Bliss. The virus mutated, became airborne, and everything died. The whole world, in seven minutes. They sealed off the Undercity to keep them alive."

"So now there are millions of people down there, imprisoned to save their lives," Luna murmured to herself.

"And we can't release them," Boe said solemnly, sounding older than he had throughout their conversation.

"It will be alright," Luna promised. "Dad will be here soon. He knows what to do."

Luna got the distinct impression that if the face had a neck, it would be nodding. "The Doctor, yes. Always saving people."

"You want to talk to him," Luna told the face certainly. "There's something I can see, or I've heard. Or will hear, maybe." She paused, trying to work that out, then shook herself. "The Face of Boe has a secret to impart to a lonely god, before he dies. And you're dying." Although she barely knew the being, the thought of him dying made her very sad.

"It will be alright, Luna. It's long past my time to go."

"I know. That doesn't mean it's not sad."

"No, I suppose not," Boe conceded. "But you will see me again."

"Promise?" Luna asked. She liked him, the strange old face. Something about him drew her in.

"I promise."

"Okay then." There was another momentary pause in the conversation. Then, "So there are people stuck on the motorway because you can't get the under-city to open?"

"Correct. Millions of them."

"So, if I put it together right…" she trailed off, looking over the numerous cables speculatively. "Do you mind?"

"Not at all," the face replied. Luna nodded and stood up, pulling off her coat and rolling up her sleeves with a small thrill – she felt like her dad, helping people and messing with complex equipment she really didn't know that much about.

The Face of Boe watched her as she shifted cables around, seeming to know what she was doing. He smiled faintly to himself – she was just like him, just like he remembered - inquisitive, smart, helpful, hopeful, alien, insightful. He was glad to see her young and curious again. Now if her father would hurry up and get here before he died his final death…

Luna scrambled back and forth over the thick, dusty cables, plugging them in here and there, guessing where half of them went. A few moments later she dusted off her hands and brushed her hair out of her face, leaving a light smear of dirt on her forehead. She smiled at the face, and he smiled back, a proper smile.

"I think that's right," she said solemnly.

"It looks good to me," the face agreed. "Are you going to turn it on now?"

"Yes." She didn't move. "Will it work?"

"You wont know until you try it," Boe pointed out. Luna nodded distractedly and moved over to pull the very large lever two steps to her right. The lights flickered with the inrush of energy, and for a moment Luna was sure it was going to work. Then it fizzled, sparked, and… nothing. Luna's face fell.

"It didn't work," she said.

"The transformers are blocked," the Face of Boe agreed. Luna sighed heavily and sat down next to him.

"I thought I could do it. Like Dad."

"I can help you," Boe told her.

"You'll die," Luna replied. She knew that was how it worked; she could feel the approaching dim of this bright being in Time.

"Not immediately," Boe pointed out. Luna shifted to look at him, kneeling right in front of his tank.

"You'd do that?" she asked, pressing one hand to the glass. "Now, for me? Not wait for Dad but help me?"

"I would," the Face of Boe replied. Luna nodded slightly in though, then pressed a kiss to the glass where her hand had been.

"Okay. If you're okay with it, go ahead."

The Face of Boe breathed deeply, and Luna realized how raspy the being's breathing was. When he spoke it was barely a whisper.

"In that case, Luna - I give you my last breath," the Face of Boe said quietly, releasing the air and with it the energy needed to free the transponders. Luna pulled down on the lever again, and this time she could feel the vibrations as the Undercity opened up to the sky above.

"I've got to go on comm now, don't I?" she asked rhetorically, knowing Boe wasn't strong enough to answer. Looking around, she found the microphone and positioned herself in front of a monitor. With a little help from her sonic wand (sonic part only this time – no magic in unfamiliar energy environments until she fixed that glitch) she was broadcasting to everyone on the motorway.

"Hello. I'm Luna. My dad has been very unhelpful," she said reproachfully, then shrugged. "But that's not his fault. Now, I need you all to drive up. The motorway is open now. Drive up. Because there's the possibility that the Undercity might fall into the sea so you all need to drive up," she finished slightly awkwardly. Her dad was much better at this than she was. "Up you go."

"Luna!" a voice shouted back over the com. "Where are you?"

"In the Senate," she told her dad. "With someone who wants to see you. Novice Hame can come back too. Quickly if you don't mind, I'm not quite sure what to do with the comm. Or Boe."

"We're on our way," the Doctor promised. And indeed, moments later he and Hame appeared with the flash of a transport. He dusted himself off and hurried over to Luna, giving her a hug. "That's my girl."

"Lovely daughter you've got there, Doctor," another voice called. The Doctor grinned and Luna handed him the comm, moving over to join Novice Hame by Boe and paying little attention to her dad as he rambled behind her.

"How is he?" Luna asked Novice Hame. The cat woman shook her head.

"He's very weak. He's been supporting the city for twenty-four years."

"I know. He told me."

Novice Hame nodded. "He's dying now." Luna didn't bother telling the cat woman she knew that too.

As they watched, the front of the tank that held the Face of Boe suspended began cracking, lines branching out from a single point. Hame and Luna shifted out of the way, and the Doctor turned when he heard the sound. The grin slid off his face, and he moved over to stand by Luna as the glass shattered and Boe slid out onto the floor.

"Old friend, what happened?" the Doctor murmured, crouching next to him.

"He gave his last breath," Luna said sadly. "To save those people, because the world is dead."

"The whole world?" he echoed. "How?"

"There was a new mood," Luna replied absentmindedly, brushing the Face of Boe's cheek with her free hand. Her dad turned to Novice Hame, who gave him the full answer. And then they sat there, waiting for Martha, waiting for Boe to die.

"Doctor? Luna?" A hesitant call broke through the thick, melancholy silence.

"Over here," the Doctor called back over his shoulder. A second later Martha came around the corner, smiling with relief. Like everyone else, however, her smile slipped when she saw the Face of Boe, lying propped up on the remains of his tank.

"What's that?" she asked.

"It's the Face of Boe," the Doctor replied.

"He's nice," Luna assured quietly. "Come say hello."

"And this is Hame. She's a cat. Don't worry."

Martha approached carefully, crouching next to Novice Hame. "Who is he?"

The Doctor looked pensive for a moment. "I don't even know. He's the one who saved you, him and Luna."

"My lord gave his life to save the city," Hame said sadly. "And now he's dying."

"No, don't say that," the Doctor argued. "Not old Boe, plenty of life left."

"He's dying, Dad," Luna repeated. "It's been long past his time. He's ready."

"It's good to breathe the air again," Boe agreed softly.

"Legend says the Face of Boe has lived for billions of years," the Doctor continued uselessly. "You're not about to give up now."

"Everything has its time," the face placated gently. "You know that, old friend. Better than most."

"The legend says more," Novice Hame interrupted. The Doctor turned on her.

"Don't," he ordered. "There's no need for that."

Luna sighed and looked at the face. She could feel it in the gold, and she knew her dad could see the timelines too. "You know it's time," she murmured softly.

"It's said the Face of Boe will speak his final secret to a traveler."

"But not yet," the Doctor said, almost pleading. "Who needs secrets, eh?"

"I have seen so much," Boe whispered, breaking up the argument.

"Perhaps too much," Luna nodded, still far away. She was watching him, the Face of Boe, memorizing his signature in Time. It would be gone soon, dull and fade until there was nothing left. She wanted to remember it, to always be able to see the blinding golden nebula that was the Face of Boe. That way the beauty would never be completely lost, the same way Gallifrey lived on through her father and herself.

"Yes," Boe agreed. "I am the last of my kind, Doctor. As you are the last of yours."

"He has me," Luna argued softly, but she understood the Face of Boe's words. She was only half a Time Lady. Similar? Yes, very, almost completely. But not a full Time Lord. She couldn't share memories of Gallifrey with her father, couldn't talk to him about the Academy or the Houses or the species she was a member of but had never known.

"That's why we have to survive," the Doctor told Boe quietly, eyes filled with sadness. "Both of us. Don't go," he pleaded.

"I must. But know this, Time Lord." Luna paused stroking Boe's cheek, feeling the importance of the next four words rippling forward and backwards through Time.

"You are not alone."

The Face of Boe sighed again, a deep, full breath of air passing through is mouth, and his eyes fluttered closed. Luna watched the gold fade around the Face of Boe, dissolving like dust in the wind. A single tear tracked down her face. Next to her the Doctor rocked back as though struck, staring at the Face of Boe, trying to understand. Hame broke down sobbing, and Martha watched them all, confused. She stood up, uncertain. The Doctor stood too, wrapping one arm around her shoulder. 'It's okay now,' the gesture seemed to say. Martha closed her eyes and wrapped her arms around his midsection, gaining strength from the protection he gave.

Luna stood up too, head bowed for a moment. Then she joined Martha and the Doctor, taking hold of her dad's free hand, both offering and receiving support. They stayed like that for a long time.

* * *

The alley was empty when they got back. The booths were closed and on each was a sign that read 'Closed until further notice.' The Doctor peered closely at one and nodded.

"All closed down," he said out loud.

"Happy?" Martha asked.

"Happy-happy," he replied with a small grin, pulling his head out of the emptied booth. "New New York can start again. They've got Novice Hame. Just what any city needs, a cat in charge."

"She'll do a good job," Luna said.

"That she will," the Doctor agreed. "She's come a long way. Come on, time we were off."

"But what did he mean, the Face of Boe?" Martha asked, staying put while the Doctor started off with Luna next to him. "'You are not alone.'" The Doctor stopped and turned around. Luna stepped to the side, perching on a large crate. She had the feeling they'd be there a while.

"I don't know," the Doctor replied nonchalantly. Luna frowned. He was going to lie to her, again.

"You've got Luna. And you've got me," Martha told him, hopeful. "Is that what he meant?"

"I don't think so," the Doctor replied gently with a small smile. "Sorry."

"Then what?" she asked, her own smile faltering.

"Doesn't matter," the Doctor brushed aside. "Back to the TARDIS, off we go." He turned back towards his ship, paying little mind to the fact that Martha wasn't behind him until he heard something clang. Turning back around he saw Luna was still sitting on the crate, and Martha had picked up a rather beaten up chair and was sitting down, legs crossed and arms folded.

"Alright, are you staying here?" he asked them. Luna gave him a Look, and he had a feeling he knew what was coming next. He also had a feeling he probably deserved it.

"Until you talk to me properly, yes," Martha replied stubbornly. "He said, 'last of your kind.' What does that mean?"

"It really doesn't matter," he insisted, giving Luna a Look back. His daughter just shrugged and nodded pointedly at Martha.

"You don't talk," the human told him hotly, ignoring his brief exchange with Luna. "You never say. Why not?"

All around them music began to sound, a melody weaving throughout New New York. Martha leaned forward, captivated. Luna closed her eyes, letting it wash over her.

"It's the city," Martha murmured in awe, previous argument momentarily forgotten. "They're singing." Her eyes drifted over to the Doctor. He was looking up towards the Overcity, listening. He felt her eyes on him and looked back at her. She was perched on the edge of the chair, expectant, waiting. He opened his mouth, then closed it. What should he say? That he lied, that he had killed them all? That the Face of Boe was wrong, that he was the only one left? He took a breath, facing Martha fully.

"I lied to you," he said, voice heavy with emotion. Watching from the side, Luna nodded softly. He was going to tell her, tell the truth. That was good. He needed Martha, needed her support. "''Cos I liked it. I could pretend. Just for a bit, I could imagine they were still alive, under that burnt orange sky. I'm not just a Time Lord, Martha. I'm the last of the Time Lords. The Face of Boe was wrong; there's no one else."

"What happened?" Martha asked, eyes wide. The Doctor paused, eye falling on an overturned chair nearby. He grabbed it and walked over to Martha, setting it in front of her. He sat down heavily, drawing a breath between his teeth.

"There was a war. A Time War. The Last Great Time War. My people fought a race called the Daleks, for the sake of all creation. And... we lost. They lost. Everyone lost. They're all gone now. My family. My friends. Even that sky." His lip trembled the tiniest bit, and Martha understood, just a little, how broken he still was inside. He turned away from Martha, looking at something only he could see. He was smiling, but it was a painful, hurting smile. "You should've seen it, that old planet. The second sun would rise in the south and the mountains would shine. The leaves on the trees were sliver. When they caught the light every morning, it looked like a forest of fire. When autumn came, a breeze would blow through the branches. It sounded like a song…" he trailed off, caught in his memories. A tear glistened in one eye, but didn't fall. Luna slipped off the crate and drifted over to Martha.

The young woman looked up when she felt a light hand on her arm. Luna stood there, large silver eyes full of understanding. Gently, without speaking, she pulled Martha up, leading her back to the TARDIS. Martha paused, looking back at the Doctor who was still sitting there, seemly completely unaware of his surroundings.

"Shouldn't we wait?" Martha asked hesitantly. Luna shook her head.

"He'll come when he's ready. He needs some time right now."

"Will he be alright?"

"Maybe. He needed that though. It was good of you to push."

Martha didn't respond, looking over her shoulder at the Doctor again. She was uncertain now that she knew; maybe she shouldn't have asked. Luna faced her fully.

"He'll heal," the girl promised. "He just… He lost someone, recently. He needs someone to lean on, not someone who wants him." Luna's words were gentle, and Martha nodded.

"I suppose I've been a bit… forward," she agreed. "I understand now, I think. I won't push him like that."

"He does like you. Just not that way." Luna unlocked the TARDIS, offering to let Martha in first.

"Right," Martha agreed, resigned. "Sorry."

The two entered the TARDIS, closing the door behind them. Outside, the Doctor sat motionless, anchored to his seat by the heavy weight of loss and somehow, at the same time, feeling lighter than he had in a long time.

* * *

Reviews are, as always, welcome.


	14. Chapter 14

I just got my very own laptop for my birthday, so hopefully more writing will get done now that I don't have to fight to use the family desktop. We'll see though.

Disclaimer: I own neither Harry Potter nor Doctor Who.

* * *

Luna was pacing.

Back and forth, back and forth. She was aware of the people watching her through the rain as she covered the same patch of ground over and over, but she paid them no mind. Not that she didn't care about their problems – her dad in particular had cared too much – she simply had more important things occupying her thought process. So the poor wet buggers who lived in Hooverville in Central Park were pushed to the fringes of her mind along with the cold rain that soaked her through as she paced and worried.

"Something's wrong," she said to no one. No one responded.

The worst part was that she didn't know what it was. It had started as soon as they – she, the Doctor, and Martha – had arrived in 1930s New York, and the unsettling but unnameable feeling that something just wasn't right hadn't gone away. If anything it had gotten stronger over the morning as her father looked into the alleged 'Hooverville Mystery' and volunteered to work a tunnel collapse in order to find out what had been happening to the men who volunteered to work for a certain Mr. Diagoras. That had been early that morning.

Now it was past nightfall and they still weren't back and something was silently screaming a warning in the back of her mind like an itch she couldn't scratch. She knew from experience that if she felt something was off then it was off. Which was why the 'something' brushing the back of her mind left her on edge. Hackles raised. Waiting. But she didn't know what for.

A commotion broke her out of her musings. Despite the rain, men were beginning to gather together out of the dry safety of their ramshackle homes. She paused, looking around trying to see what had caused the change in the citizens of Hooverville, and caught sight of someone approaching down the muddy path. It was Solomon, the unofficial mayor of Hooverville. He had gone off that morning with Martha, the Doctor, and a man named Frank. Now he was returning alone.

"Mr. Solomon?" she called to him as he got closer. When the man turned to look at her she hurried to walk next to him. "Where are they?"

"At the theatre," Solomon replied heavily, and Luna let out a quiet breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding.

"Are they safe?"

"Later, kid. Go find somewhere covered and dry off." Luna waited for a moment for him to pass before following him. She trailed him to the 'town square' in the center Hooverville. There she watched, crouched beneath dripping canvas eaves as he called the men to action.

"The stories are true," he told the men. His voice rang clearly, and the fire flickering by his feet illuminated his face and the men around him through the slanted rain. "Men _are_ being taken. Frank was stolen today, right in front of me." The men whispered, an undertone of disbelief and worry running through the crowd. "But no more. I swear to you, no more! I made a pledge that this place would be a peaceful place," he recounted, looking around at the people watching him. "But now it's time to take up arms. We need weapons. We need sentries on duty. We need men prepared to fight. We got to protect ourselves, 'cause no one else will. Now get moving! Arm yourselves, come on!"

A cry of approval filled the air as the men dispersed. Some moved further away from the warm safety of camp, slipping into the wet darkness to watch the park around them. Others went back to huts and tents to find guns or moved about the town, spreading word. Luna stayed crouched in the shadows, ignored. Hooverville was preparing for war. Against what? What had scared the humans so much? And whatever it was, what threat did it pose for herself, her dad, and Martha? Should she go find them?

"You stay here." A voice interrupted her thoughts as though in answer. Luna looked up in surprise. Solomon was standing there, face cast into shadow by the fire behind him.

"What?" Luna asked innocently.

"Your dad's orders. You stay here. Seemed to think you might go looking for him or some such," the old soldier told her.

"Why would he think that?" she asked him. The man fixed her with a look.

"No idea," he replied dryly. "If you're anything like him though, I completely understand his request." Luna grinned sheepishly and Solomon nodded. "Stick around and keep out of trouble."

She sighed, settling back into the shadow of the tent. "I'll stay here. Don't worry."

"Thanks, kid."

* * *

Luna dozed under the eaves. It was surprisingly warm and dry, and no one had bothered her since Solomon. After an hour or so the men had calmed and were now waiting for something to happen. The air buzzed silently with tension waiting to be released.

"Someone's coming!" A shout raised at the entrance of the camp had the men of Hooverville up and turning to face the intruders. Luna blinked awake, wondering what had raised the alarm. It was the small hours of the morning; no one should have been up or about. Unless…

She was awake in a second after that. They were back, she knew they were back. She jumped up, reaching along the bond she had with her father to make sure it really was them. She was pulled up short, however, as her dad's emotions swamped her. The Doctor was worried.

No. No, that wasn't right. He wasn't worried. He was alarmed, terrified. She had never felt him like that, not that she could remember. Furious, stubborn as hell, lonely, excited, melancholy, exuberant, worried, yes. But never filled with the horror he was broadcasting at the moment. Her sense of foreboding should have been listened to. But they had they had gone anyways and something had happened, something bad, something that scared her dad more than anything they had ever encountered together. On edge and somber, she headed to intercept them.

"Luna." The Doctor's voice hummed with relief. To the general passerby he looked fine, but Luna could see through the amazingly thick emotional shields he projected. While the men and women that had disappeared back into the streets of the shantytown the Doctor stayed hovering at the edge of the light.

"Are you alright?" Luna asked, allowing him to wrap her up in his lanky arms and hug her.

"I'm always alright," he told her offhandedly, but Luna knew what that meant. For him, alright might be synonymous with 'horribly terribly not-good at all.' He smiled down at her; his eyes were tired and old. "I think you should go back to the TARDIS."

Luna stiffened but didn't pull back. If he wanted her to hide away then things were more than just 'bad.' She revised her conclusion of something having gone wrong to something having gone horribly, painfully, life-threateningly wrong.

"What happened?"

"Daleks."

Luna closed her eyes briefly. She had never seen one, only heard her dad's stories. The machine encased beings that existed to cause genocides. The race that had fought the Time Lords, the aliens who had somehow survived when her people, her father's people, had not.

And once her dad named it, the feeling in the back of her mind made itself clear. It was the Daleks she had sensed on the most basic level, creatures in Time who shouldn't have existed anymore. It was a slimy feeling, a dead/metal/wrong feeling. A Gallifrey burning/ashes to ashes/dust to dust/everything dies feeling, sickly and dank, creeping through the back of her mind where Time shied away from the creatures. Luna shuddered, burrowing back into her father's embrace.

"How?" she asked, the only word she could work through her throat. How did they survive when the Time Lords didn't? How can they still hurt you, even after you've destroyed your entire race just to get rid of them? How will you stop them?

The Doctor shook his head above her, letting her cling to him just as he held on to her, supporting each other. "I don't know. Dalek Sec said it was an emergency temporal shift that led them here. Because somehow, they always survive." He laughed harshly, a bitter, cold bark in the darkness. "Always, they come back to take something from me. But I swear, Luna, I won't let them touch you." He pulled back a little to look her in the eye. "They could destroy the world around us, but they will not harm you." Because he would do that. He would risk the world if it meant she was safe from them. They would not take his daughter, his last connection to his people, the little girl who had helped him when he was alone and hurting after Rose, after the War. If there was only one thing he could give all thirteen of his lives for it was her.

"It'll be okay, Dad," she murmured, half-hoping half-seeing. "In the end, it will be okay. They wont win."

"I hope so, Lunette. I hope so."

They stayed like that for a few more moments, accepting comfort. Then a shout from the dark sent them back to camp, back to the town center to group in relative safety with the others.

Guns were gathered and men grouped together to face the threat. Solomon was shouting, his voice faint above the cacophony of panic. Fires sprung up around the shantytown. Some people tried to run, only to get caught by... pigs. Luna frowned, brow furrowed, trying to place the hybrid species. Pig-human hybrid, an engineered slave race probably.

Martha stood next to her, holding a log for the fire like it was a club. "Alright then," she said resolutely. "We'll just hold them off 'til morning."

"Oh, Martha," the Doctor sighed, looking over the scene tiredly. "These are just the foot soldiers."

Another shout was raised then, and Luna froze. In the back of her mind the buzz of wrongness intensified. People wailed around them, looking up in fear. Even the Doctor, eternally ready to face down anything, paused. Because there, floating high above the newly aflame sidewalks and fields of Central Park, were the Daleks.

* * *

Reviews are, as always, welcome.


	15. Chapter 15

Disclaimer: I own neither Harry Potter nor Doctor Who

* * *

The Daleks hovered high above them, staring down without feeling. Their blue-tinted vision swept over the crowd, watching. The humans stared back from where they huddled together in the cold air, frightened. No one moved. No one spoke. The fires from the Daleks' attack flickered throughout the park, ignored in favor of the much larger threat – the metal aliens hanging above them in the night sky.

"The Doctor will step forward." One of the Daleks broke through the silence, its harsh, rusting voice cutting through the fear in the air. It split the words into syllables, dragging them out, yet spoke without inflection. A shudder ran through the crowd.

"Don't do it." Three voices hissed quietly in the fear-filled stillness left by the Dalek's order. Luna, Martha, and Solomon all turned to the Doctor, asking with their eyes that he stay hidden in the crowd and not to give himself up. It was Solomon who continued aloud. "Let me talk to them."

"You shouldn't," the Doctor warned quietly. Solomon ignored him though, instead stepping out from the safety of the knot of people to face the Daleks alone. He took a shaky breath and began speaking, hesitant at first but then more strongly.

"I hear you're called the Daleks. Sort of outcasts yourselves, yeah? Not too much different from us down here on the ground. We got nowhere to be, no one to help us. Seems you don't neither. Maybe we could work something out. We gotta stick together in tough times like these. You don't need to go shootin' at us, we're willing to talk with you. Come to some sort of agreement. What d'you say?"

The Daleks response was unexpected, quick and violent. Moments after the words left his mouth, Solomon keeled lifelessly onto the cold ground, brought down by a single shot from the Daleks. A whisper of horror hissed through the people of Hooverville like wind through grass.

"The Doctor will step forward," the Dalek repeated. There was no feeling in its voice despite the cold-blooded murder it had just committed.

"Don't, Dad," Luna murmured. He turned partially to look at her, giving her a sad sort of smile.

"I have to, Luna. I think you know why," he replied, and after a moment Luna nodded unwillingly in defeat. "It will be okay. You saw that, right?"

"Yes," she replied, unconvinced.

"Trust Time. She won't lead you wrong. And... I have a favor to ask of you." Luna scowled, knowing what it would be, then nodded again. The Doctor let out a breath and gave her a brief kiss on the head.

"Thank you, Lunette. I'll meet you back here when it's done."

"Be careful, Dad."

"You know me," he replied with a small grin. Luna frowned, but she was glad to be able to joke despite the thick atmosphere.

"That's what I'm afraid of."

The Doctor stepped forward, leaving the girl alone. She shivered, watching him bargain with the aliens in the sky. Him for their safety. She closed her eyes, hoping for a glimpse of the future that would promise his own safety. Flashes, timelines, possibilities, happy endings... but always changing; nothing was concrete with the Daleks involved. She gave up.

In her dreamy state she missed Martha's conversation with her father. When she returned to the present, eyes unblinking and just plain tired of the entire situation, her dad was disappearing into the night with two of his greatest enemies.

* * *

It was a much more somber and solemn town that was left in the wake of the Dalek's attack. The wounded moaned, getting the barest minimum of medical help as they had no one to turn to. Martha helped where she could, but without supplies even the almost-certified doctor-in-training couldn't do much. Luna wandered here and there, not doing anything particularly important. Her gaze was turned inwards and outwards, watching the gold as it spiral around the people nearby. She wasn't looking for anything, just watching. It had been a long time since she had simply watched; the sight was a refreshing break from the madness that had swamped her life since her dad had picked up a new companion.

Not that she blamed Martha for it – the young woman was lovely to have around, almost like an older sister she didn't have. For a moment that similarity brought about memories of the Pack and Will. Where was he? How was the rest of the Pack, who they'd simply abandoned? Kash, their alpha, and her brother Ari. Maple and Ash, the twins. Had they felt betrayed? Had she and Will been forgotten? It had been so long since she'd thought of them. For just a moment, she missed that life. Then she wouldn't be pacing in 1930s New York, hoping her dad didn't get killed, hoping the Daleks didn't take over the world. Of course, with that life she would never have know what she was; she would never have had a loving, brilliant Dad who cared about her more than anything.

She could feel the moment Martha worked something out; she knew when the woman left Hooverville; she sensed them arrive where they were supposed to be – Time was guiding everything that night and actions in the present were uncommonly clear. With beings as volatile and unpredictable as the Daleks part of this particular web, the energy wanted to keep a careful tendril guiding as much as possible. It didn't help that the Daleks had their own sense of Time and also worked out of it to some extent. It was an unsettling thought, such a powerful and destructive race being able to exist in a way only two other living beings could.

The air was charged with energy, Luna could feel it every time she moved. The humans were ignorant to it; they watched the girl walk around the camp aimlessly. They had no idea that her somewhat blank expression was one of complete knowledge of the would-bes and must-nots.

And then the energy changed. Luna felt it all over, a spark running through her skin. It was an interesting perspective she had – watching from the sidelines but unable to see, able only to feel. This was it; this was the time. Again, the Doctor and the Daleks faced each other. Exterminate, regenerate. Inanimate, emotionless shells and pulsing, warm hearts. In a different world they might have been the greatest of allies; both were immensely powerful and could fully understand and grasp what others only hoped they saw. But that wasn't here; here they had not become allies. Here they had become enemies, both trying to destroy the other completely. The Daleks had almost succeed; the Time Lords were almost gone, almost no more. Almost.

But he had survived. He had not only survived, he had dealt them a crippling blow, nearly wiping them out. Four left, only four. Because the Doctor could do what the other Time Lords couldn't. Because the Doctor had been able to sacrifice everything – _everything_ – to stop them. To make sure the Daleks would _never_ win.

That was what Time sang out as it guided the events taking place. Luna listened, silver eyes glittering with unshed tears. It was a horrible story, sung in the most beautiful voice one could ever imagine. Beautiful and terrible, a part of her history she never would – never could – forget. So the young Time Lady wandered along the sidelines feeling the story, eyes full of tears, frightened and comforted at the same time.

She felt when it ended. Everything went limp. Quiet. Empty. They were gone, the Daleks. At the back of her mind, the slick texture of the shouldn't-be-here/wrong sense they created died down and left her feeling lighter and cleaner than she had since they landed. And at the other end of their bond, her dad was there, alive and unharmed. Melancholy, tired and old, but safe and determined and ready to move on. And for that Luna was infinitely glad. Smiling in relief, she turned to face the grey light of the approaching dawn. They had made it. It was over.

* * *

The sun rose slowly, shedding cold yellow light over the city. It would be a lovely day, crisp and sunny, full of red leaves and warm drinks. There was the slightest tang of snow in the air following the rain, and everything was fresh.

Luna stood next to her dad, holding his hand as he said goodbye to a few of the people who had helped him during their stay. Luna didn't know them; she waited in his shadow as the tall Time Lord grinned at the humans, amazed as always by their resilience. They were a truly wonderful species.

Then they were off. Back to the TARDIS, back home. Time for their next adventure. Except it wasn't. Because the Doctor had decided that they had led Martha on for long enough. They couldn't go on with 'one more trip' as it pleased them. She had to go home, to finish her medical training, to help people. To live a normal life.

The TARDIS arrived with its normal wheezing groan. Martha grinned in anticipation, looking to the doors the minute they set down. Luna was watching her quiver with excitement, smiling as well.

"Where are we?" she asked them, scampering down the steps to the door.

"End of the line," the Doctor told her somewhat regretfully. "No place like it." Luna's amusement slid away as she understood what her dad was saying. Martha didn't pick up on it though. "Go on," he offered as she hesitated at the door. Martha nodded, stepping out of the ship. The Doctor and Luna followed more slowly.

Martha was standing in the middle of the room. Her room. In her apartment, in London. Back home. He had taken her home. After all that, he had brought her back.

"Home," she nodded finally, throat dry. "You brought me home?" It wasn't really a question though.

"The morning after we left," he confirmed. "You've only been gone twelve hours."

"All that... Shakespeare, New New York, old New York..."

"All in one night," Luna nodded, looking around the relatively small room. "Nothing's happened here. Well, except your parents aren't speaking to each other. Again."

"So this is it?"

"Back where you were," the Doctor told her. "As promised." He paused, face softening slightly. "It was only one trip."

"Right," Martha agreed sadly. There was silence for a moment, then the phone rang. Martha ignored it and her mother's voice filled the room, urging her to check the news as her sister was on the TV. Martha turned it on, watching as an old man went on about some invention. No one really cared though; it was only to relieve the tension filling the air.

"How could Tish end up on the news?" she asked aloud, glad to have a distraction. "She only just got that job. Working PR for some research lab," she explained for the two aliens watching with her. After a moment she turned it off.

"We should go," the Doctor said into the still air.

"Right. Only one trip. It just sort of..."

"Escalated," Luna agreed. "It happens."

"Surprisingly often with us," the Doctor added.

"Thanks for everything," Martha said, heartfelt. The Doctor grinned fondly at her. Brilliant Martha Jones.

"It was our pleasure."

He left with that, disappearing into the TARDIS. Luna paused a moment longer, giving Martha a brief hug.

"We'll see each other very soon," she promised. Martha didn't need to reply; she knew that with the girl's gift it would undoubtably happen. Then Luna too entered the TARDIS. The wooden box sat there innocently for a moment longer before fading in and out of the room with its typical wheezing groan until it had vanished completely. Martha let the smile slip off her face, sighing heavily. All that and then she was just dumped back in her old life, exactly as she had left it. Homework, textbooks, a few pounds lying here and there, laundry... 'normal' life.

The frown lessened though, morphing into a wide smile, as she heard something. Faint at first, then louder, a wheezing groan from the space the TARDIS had just occupied. Then the wind picked up, blowing around papers and other small items that would take forever to clean up afterwards. She didn't care though, because she knew that sound. That sound meant the Doctor was coming back.

Luna exited first, grinning smugly as if she had just won something. The Doctor appeared a second later, poking his head out of the door. He nodded to the telly, then looked back at her, incredulous.

"No, I'm sorry. Did that man just say he was going to 'change what it means to be human?'"

* * *

Reviews are, as always, welcome.


	16. Chapter 16

Disclaimer: I own neither Harry Potter nor Doctor Who.

* * *

It turned out that the man on the TV, Professor Richard Lazarus, had managed to a) de-age himself by about forty years and b) mutate his own genome in the process. So the Doctor had been forced to deal with him in the end with help from Luna, Martha, Martha's sister Tish, and a church organ. He had also met Martha's mother in the course of the evening's events. That had been interesting, to say the least.

After that they had traveled. Anywhere and anywhen. All of time and space; no laws or decrees to abide by. Martha joined the father-daughter team in the TARDIS, going everywhere, seeing everything.

They saw the seven wonders of the world and visited ancient Greece and met the 'gods' – fairly powerful aliens that the early humans had worshiped. They also met another time traveler there, a student doing a report for the Time Agency. "Lovely girl," the Doctor had said afterwards. "Such a shame she's working with the Agency."

Not all their trips had been lovely, of course. The Doctor attracted trouble without trying; at one point they had been stranded on a cargo transport that was forty-two minutes from crashing into a local sun. To make that situation worse, the crewmen were being possessed by the living sun, which was doing its best to thwart their escape. The engine had been wrecked, the auxiliaries were twenty-eight password-sealed doors away, and two of the crew had been vaporized. Martha had gone on an unexpected space voyage in an escape pod with a man named Riley and Luna had spent fifteen minutes fixing the generator to have it destroyed when one of the sun's possessed – a man named Ashton – had gotten his hands on it. The most frightening part of that ill-fated voyage, however, had been when the Doctor had been possessed. Luna had felt the white-hot alien presence fighting against her dad, burning through his mind until he buckled under the pressure and gave in. At the same time, Luna had been on the other side of the ship, powerless as the sun attempted to break him. She had felt his fear, his panic and pain. But for some reason, she hadn't been afraid, hadn't been worried or scared - and it wasn't because she knew he would make it out safely.

They did make it out safely, thankfully. Well, most of them. Only two of the original seven crew survived, but with a few orders from Martha they had managed to dump the fuel containing the sentient sun's heart and it had let them go. Afterwards Luna admitted to her dad that she hadn't been as scared as she though she should have been.

"I _was_ scared," she explained, but it sounded weak, as if she were trying to convince herself. "But I didn't feel it. It didn't stop me, I barely paused. I'm glad I didn't freeze, but it was killing you and I couldn't spare the energy or time to be scared. It just… wasn't there."

"That's how it should be, Lunette," the Doctor placated. "You'll always be scared. I'm still scared, and I've been doing this for hundreds of years. Just because you don't show it or act on it or let yourself feel it doesn't mean you're not. And I know you'd always worry for me, just like I worry for you. Even if it's not a conscious thought."

"I felt bad, not feeling scared for you. But then... I'd always be scared, wouldn't I? And I don't want to be. I don't want fear to supersede whatever's going on around me. I can be scared but that doesn't mean I have to show it or act on it... Either it'll work, or it won't, and hiding in fear isn't going to get me anywhere. Right?"

"Right. It's a hard sometimes. It's easier to be afraid, to run and hide."

"You don't, though. Even when you feel it. And I won't either."

After that particular adventure and subsequent life lesson they had visited a few calmer places. Beaches, museums, old friends, history. They'd met Joan d'Arc and stopped by to see Shakespeare again in 1610. That had been a very nice meeting; he had taken time off his work to show them around London. No aliens showed up and they spent a good bit of time trading jokes while the playwright flirted with Martha.

There was a run-in with a troop of freelance Judoon in 4672. Turned out they actually _weren't_ out to destroy the government structure of an entire planet - they only wanted fishing rights. That had been a nightmare to negotiate but worth it in the end when they had been able to participate in underwater fishing, the brand new recreational activity that would become a major attraction and turn the planet, Vorleen, into a bustling tourist hotspot in fifty years.

They busted an alien-backed company that was turning people into walking fat in 2008. The Adipose, as the aliens were called, were surprisingly cute and Luna had wanted to keep one, though the Doctor had put his foot down. In the end, the baby Adipose had made it to safety aboard the parent ships, no one had died, and the woman in charge of operations on Earth had decided to become a preschool teacher. The only question left over afterwards was what happened to Adipose Three, the Adipose breeding planet. It was that unexpected and unexplained loss that had led them to using Earth for an incubator (despite the fact that it was a level five planet and that was therefore illegal. Thus going into hiding as a preschool teacher).

A girl in 2007 London had given them a purple envelope full of transcripts and pictures. The three had been dealing with the migration of a rather large bright green lizard through the city after it had gotten transported there from a city on Venus and had been looking rather out-of-place with bows and quivers when the shop girl – Sally Sparrow – had stopped them, looked amazed for a bit (or maybe awed), and then handed over the envelope and happily disappeared into her shop with her boyfriend, leaving three rather confused travelers in her wake. (They'd also dealt successfully with the lizard and been honored by the Venusians by having a mountain range named in their honor. The actual name was practically impossible to pronounce in any language beside Third Century Venusian but meant something along the lines of 'The Doctor, his child Luna, and their companion Martha saved our Bacon (the lizard) and will now be honored for eternity by the six hundred sixty-sixth clan of the sulphuric world of Venus by the naming of this mighty mountain range.' The three just nodded in gratitude when they paused for breath.)

More free time, more running. It was almost like having Will back – someone for the two aliens to share everything with, someone who was amazed by everything. Someone to count on when Luna and the Doctor couldn't be three places at once. Someone who would be there whenever you needed but disappear when the Doctor was teaching Luna Gallifreyan, or how to power a city using potatoes and a lamp, or the compiled history of Flane, or how to tell a Speckled Neophage from a Galumphus.

Then there were two months in 1913 with a human Doctor and a sometimes-human Luna. They were being chased by the Family of Blood, the ultimate alien pickpockets. They stole everything – their bodies, their ship, their time-hopper, even their life energy. In this case, they were trying to steal the Time Lords' energy, which would sustain them for the rest of time so they could be free to ravage the universe as they pleased. Which was why the Doctor had taken them into hiding. Three months hiding out at the Farringham School for Boys where sometimes-human-Luna and human-Doctor, John Smith, would live. Then, when the Family's lifespan had run out, they would leave again. That had been the plan anyways. It had, of course, gone wrong.

First John Smith had fallen in love, with the school matron, Nurse Joan Redfern. Then Luna had accidentally opened her watch while checking the time. A quick, nice bit of spell work had saved them from being found, but Luna was herself and aware of what was going on in the bigger picture. She watched John and Joan grow closer with mixed irritation and sadness because she knew it couldn't last. Then someone had stolen the Doctor's fob watch. That someone being Timothy Latimer as Luna had discovered while wandering the halls.

"Tim? "Shouldn't you be in class?"

"Yes."

"Why aren't you?"

"Oh, um... Luna!"

"That's me, yes."

"I-"

"Is that Dad? -'s watch?"

"I though Professor Smith was your uncle."

"Oh, right. Sorry, it's hard to keep straight. It's rather complicated."

"How can it be complicated?"

"Well, technically that's my Dad. His consciousness, anyways; in the watch. John Smith is an aspect of him, sort of like a brother... It's hard to explain."

"Erm..."

"I said it was complicated."

"...It's talking to me."

"I expect he would. It's probably your low-level telepathic field picking up the messages. I can hear him from here."

"Telepathic...?"

"Don't worry, it's an inborn human ability. Most people just can't access it."

"How do you know?"

"Dad taught me."

"..."

"What?"

"I don't think I believe in aliens."

"That's okay. I don't believe in God. Or nargles."

"What are nargles?"

"I don't know. They don't exist."

"Makes sense."

"I think class will be out soon; try not to get in trouble. Keep an eye on that fob watch and look out for the Family, okay?"

"What fami- never mind. Okay. And, erm, thanks for explaining, Luna."

"Anytime. Better get back to class before Baines finds you."

"Right. Goodbye."

So Timothy Latimer had the Doctor's fob watch, John Smith was taking Joan Redfern to the village dance, two months were up, and Martha, working as a school maid and trying to keep an eye on everything, was feeling overwhelmed. Then the Family showed up. Luna wasn't allowed out so she missed the fight at the dance but John Smith came back talking about men with guns and then they were there, at the school, with scarecrows going to war. Mass panic settled in, and there was some hiding away, and running.

Tim found them there, hiding in an abandoned house at the outskirts of town, Martha trying to explain to John what they needed while Luna and Joan looked on. With him Tim brought the watch, the fob watch that they needed. But John wasn't happy, wasn't convinced, didn't want to.

"Hold it," Martha asked, proffering the watch. John wouldn't get near it.

"I won't."

"Please, just hold it."

"It told me to find you, it wants to be found," Tim said near the door.

"You've had it all this time, why didn't you return it?" Nurse Redfern asked.

"It wasn't ready. And… I was scared. Of the Doctor."

"Why?"

"Because… I've seen him. He's like fire and ice and rage. He's like… the night, and the storm, and the heart of the sun."

"Stop it," John Smith whispered.

"He's ancient and forever. He burns at the center of time and he can see the turn of the universe."

"Stop it, I said stop it."

"And… he's wonderful."

A silence rang through the shadowed house. Then the ground shook and a light flashed and everyone crowded around the window. Fire streaked through the sky, crashing into the village. Missiles, projectiles of some sort.

"They're bombing the village," Luna murmured, conflicted. All those innocent people, for the Doctor. Always for the Doctor. And here he was, human and terrified, and John Smith didn't want this, didn't want any of it. But… _he_ couldn't leave her. He had to come back, the Doctor, her dad.

"The watch, give it to me," he ordered suddenly, snatching it out of Martha's hand. He stood away from them looking at it, fingering it, examining it.

"Can you hear him?" Tim asked.

"He's asleep," John muttered, almost to himself. "Waiting to wake."

"Why did he speak to me?"

John looked up, voice changing, falling back into the cadence Luna knew so well. "Oh, low-level telepathic fields, you were born with 'em. Just an extra synaptic engram causing-" he gasped, looking ready to drop it.

"Like I said - my dad taught me," Luna whispered to Tim. He nodded mutely.

"Is that what he sounds like?" John asked brokenly. "Is that how he talks?"

"Yes, that's him, that's the Doctor!" Martha was overjoyed. Just a snippet of him, but it was him. He'd come back, he'd fix it, he'd help her. Because she was at a loss. It had all spiraled out of control so quickly. She didn't know what to do without him there to help. Having his klutzy human self standing right there, looking like him but completely, infuriatingly unhelpful. "All you have to do is open it and he's back."

"You knew this all along?" He was angry too now. "You knew and you just watched as Nurse Redfern and I…"

"I didn't know how to stop you," Martha argued. "He gave me a list of things to watch out for but that wasn't included."

"Falling in love? That didn't even occur to him?"

Martha was at a loss. "No."

"Then what sort of a man is that?"

"I don't think he expected to fall in love again," Luna commented quietly. She moved forward next to Martha, giving the stressed woman some respite. "Not after he lost Rose."

"Rose… She's in the dreams, the stories. They're just stories, Luna. They're not real."

"But they are," Luna countered. "They are real, every bit of them. The Doctor is an amazing man, a man who travels through space and time and saves worlds and fights terrible monsters and raises his daughter alone, alway learning, always exploring, always running. You're so like him… But you're not him. And we need him."

A shocked pause. "He has a daughter? Who?"

Luna looked up at him with large silver eyes. He was looking at her, and for just a moment he had the same look in his eyes she would see in her father's - the haunted gaze of someone who had seen too much heartbreak. But it wasn't the same, it was a shallow version of that look. A human version. Luna bit her lip. "It's me, Uncle John. You're amazing, I swear, and I wouldn't trade you for anything or anyone… Except Dad. And the only way to do that is for you to open the watch."

"Why can't you do with me? I've cared for you; I've loved you! Why him?"

"Because he's my Dad. And he's the only thing I've got."

"You want me to die!" Luna recoiled at the harsh accusation.

"It was always gonna end." Martha insisted, stepping forward. "The Family's got a limited lifespan. That's why they need to consume a Time Lord. Otherwise, three months and they die. 'Like mayflies,' he said."

"So your job was to execute me," John concluded. "Both of you - your _uncle_, Luna. To kill me after three months."

"I had to open the watch too," Luna answered shakily. "I died, and it was okay, because now I'm, well… me. I spent the first eight years of my life like that, hidden away. It was fine, nice even - but I would never go back. Not now, not when I have Dad and the TARDIS and the entire universe at my doorstep."

"People are dying out there," Martha pleaded. "They need him. I need him. 'Cos you've got no idea what he's like and I've only just met him but I trust him _completely_. I don't know what to do anymore and the Family showed up and you won't open the watch and there's nothing else I can do because I'm not an all-powerful Time Lord like he is and he's the Doctor and he knows what to do and he could _fix_ all of this."

Another blast rattled the house, flashing firelight across their faces. Martha, pleading. Joan, reading in the corner, pouring over the diary of John's dreams, the Doctor's adventures. Tim, watching it all in amazement, knowing who the Doctor was. Luna, waiting for the decision to be made. John, looking at them condemning him. Then his eyes gaining light briefly with a new idea.

"I should've thought of it sooner. I'll give it to them," he declared. "Just the watch. Then they can leave Earth; I can stay as I am."

"You can't do that," Martha argued hotly.

"If they want the Doctor they can have him."

"It doesn't work like that. He'll never let you do it."

"I can. If they get what they want then, then-"

"Then it all ends in destruction." Joan looked up, holding the diary open. "Those creatures would live forever, to breed and conquer. A war across the stars for every child."

John stood still, the anger gone out of him. His breathing sped up, shallower, gulping. Holding back sobs, because he couldn't fight anymore. Because even Joan had turned against him. Luna couldn't stand it anymore; she couldn't see him like that. He was crying, and she had done that to him. It didn't matter if he was the Doctor or not, he was still Uncle John and he had cared for her when she was human, and after she had changed. He hadn't questioned her eccentrics, her strange words, her nightmares. He had been there for her when she needed him to be and she had stood against him, argued for _killing_ him.

"I'm sorry, Uncle John," she whispered. "I'm so sorry." She pushed past Martha, almost running out of the room, out of the house.

"Timothy, Martha, could you please leave us," Nurse Redfern asked politely. The two didn't need a second invitation, with a last look back they followed Luna out. Behind them John Smith broke down completely, collapsing into sobs in Nurse Redfern's embrace.

* * *

Luna was standing in the garden, watching the village burning. Martha came up behind her, standing at her shoulder. She stayed silent, waiting for Luna to speak first. After a few minutes the girl did, turning to face her companion. The fire glinted off the tears winding down her cheeks.

"I hurt him," she said, voice wavering. "He looked after me and cared for me and loved me and I hurt him so badly. He would always help me, but I can't do anything for him now that he needs it. I'm fighting against him same as anyone else, condemning him to death. And I don't know if I can ever apologize."

Martha wrapped an arm around the girl, at a loss. "It's okay Luna. It's alright."

"Will he be okay? Will Nurse Redfern?"

"I don't know. I just… don't know."

They stood there like that, silent; Luna and Martha and Tim staring out at the town. Watching and waiting. No one paid much attention to the passage of time. As the night wore on, morning slowly began creeping over the land, the grey light of dawn illuminating the smoldering village. Then, like it does, the sun suddenly reared up into the sky, the bright disk throwing orange light across the world. And someone came over the hill.

The Doctor.

He didn't pause, didn't speak except tell them that the TARDIS was waiting round a hill and he'd meet them back there. Then he strode past, into the house. Martha and Tim watched him as he walked past, then turned back towards the way he had come. But Luna stayed, staring at the village, thinking about nothing. Her mind was empty, all the emotion had washed away, all the thoughts, all the ideas and questions and everything - blank. A faux calm, a calm of emptiness. Like she was mindlessly waiting for something, but she didn't know what.

The Doctor was angry when he came out, Luna could read it in the tense hunch of his shoulder, his hands stuffed deep in his coat pockets. But it wasn't really a fiery anger, it was slower than that, cooler than that - anger at the situation, maybe, but most likely at himself. Because coupled with the anger was that _look_ he got in his eyes, after a particularly trying series of events - the old/tired/lonely/my fault look that tasted like bittersweet age and sadness. Luna hated that look.

"I'm alright." He waved her off before she could say anything. She took it in stride, following along behind. Either he'd speak about it or he wouldn't; she couldn't push. There was one thing she wanted to say, though.

"I know it's no use, and it goes both ways, but… I'm sorry. For what I said to him. Uncle John."

The Doctor nodded, silent and brooding. He would have loved to tell Luna it was fine, that she was forgiven, but it wasn't his call to make. John Smith had died, and he had been the one who would give her the closure she wanted.

Like he had hoped Joan would give him closure. He had known she wasn't going to say yes to traveling with him - it would've hurt her to much, and hurt him too. But he had to ask, to see her, to try. To ask for an apology, in his own obfuscated way. And she had returned it with a question, a damnation. And worst of all, she had been right. If he had never visited, never chosen that place on a whim - would anyone have died?

No.

He had killed them. Just by being there. The Doctor, making people better.

Yeah right.

Dark thoughts whispering through his head, he continued on to the TARDIS, Luna half-jogging along behind. Neither speaking, each caught up in their own minds. One in turmoil, the other in a blank calm. When the tension got too high, the Doctor spoke, just one thing.

"We should never have come."

The wizarding world will make an appearance in the next chapter.

* * *

Reviews are, as always, welcome.


	17. Chapter 17

Harry Potter, as promised. Though it's not actually Harry here. And to clear up all the confusion, Sirius is a year younger than Luna here.

Disclaimer: I own neither Harry Potter nor Doctor Who

* * *

The house was too small. It was a nice house, old, Georgian, in an upper class neighborhood, but it wasn't big enough. Not for them. The Doctor didn't do domestic, and Luna had picked up his lack of tolerance. A house was _not_ something either wanted.

But there they were, with a house and mortgage and groceries in London 1969. Sent back in time to live to death by the Weeping Angels, a race of quantum locked aliens - as long as you looked at them they were stone. But then look away just for a second, a single blink, and they got you, sent you back so they could live off the potential energy of the life you could've led. The only psychopaths to kill you nicely.

The neighborhood their house was in was upper class, posh, full of distain for the eccentric family of three living at No. 10. That was fine with the travelers. It meant they had relative privacy; none of their rich neighbors wanted to spend time snooping on them. Well, almost.

There was someone next door; a boy Luna would see at the gate on her way to school. Always, when the children were walking to or from school he would be there at the gate, just watching. Over time Luna realized that she was the only one to see him; for some reason he was invisible to the other children. He was a mystery. And Luna was never one to turn away a mystery.

Which was why the next morning found her leaning against the brick pillars next to the gate in front of No. 12. The boy was there like always, staring out at the morning bustle in open amazement, hidden behind his majestic iron-wrought gate. Luna spoke casually.

"I can see you, you know."

The boy started violently, turning to stare at her. Luna stared back. He was younger than her by a year or so she guessed. Long back hair pulled out of grey eyes, pale, high aristocratic cheekbones, extremely well dressed - clothes expensive enough to put the rest of the neighborhood to shame - and his clothes hung off him well. But he didn't look arrogant or disdainful though, just curious. He frowned.

"How? Mother said that there were variations of the muggle repelling charms on these gates."

"Maybe I'm not a muggle."

That seemed to excite him if the smile was anything to go by. A sudden twinkle lit up his eyes and he stepped out of the gate, offering a hand as he grinned.

"Really? You're a witch? That's brilliant. Sirius Black."

"Luna Etoile."

"Etoile… Is that one of the French Houses?" His face furrowed in endearing concentration, trying to recall something.

"I don't think so. Daddy wasn't a wizard."

"'Wasn't?'" He caught the past tense, and the melancholy timbre behind the nonchalant response.

"He died."

"Oh. I'm sorry, I shouldn't have asked."

"It's fine," she waved offhandedly.

"But… you're crying," Sirius pointed out, baffled.

"Really?" Pointing it out seemed to confuse her. Like she _shouldn't_ be crying for her dead dad, which Sirius didn't understand. She raised a hand to her cheek, brushing away the salty dampness trailing down her face from bright silver eyes. Her brow furrowed in puzzlement, and she seemed almost… amazed by the tears. Perplexed. Sirius watched in mild shock. What was he supposed to do with a crying girl? _Why_ was she crying? She had been completely fine a moment ago!

He gave her a tentative hug - that was what Ted did when Andy cried. Well, that or give her a kiss but that was sorta icky.

"Are you okay?" he asked after pulling away. Luna had stopped crying, if it could even be called proper crying. More like a silent procession of tears, moving in accordance with gravity. There was something very… strange about seeing her cry, but Sirius couldn't put his finger on it.

"I'm fine," she replied with confusion. "But I don't know why… I don't normally…" She didn't know what to say.

"That's alright." Wasn't it? What had he said? Well, he had brought up her dad, but wasn't she living with her dad? Adopted dad? He shouldn't have brought it up anyways… He berated himself for making such a pretty girl cry.

Wait.

Pretty?

Weren't girls supposed to be, well… icky? _But it's true_, a voice whispered in his head._ Luna's pretty._ He blushed faintly and told his inner voice to shut up. The voice idly noted that it was what _Sirius_ has seen in her and it (the voice) was only, well, voicing the thought. Sirius determinedly ignored it.

"I've missed school," she said with a bit of a laugh, filling the silence. Already, her tears seemed like history, unimportant. Suddenly, Sirius realized that here was someone who could be someone to talk to, a friend, a companion. Who cared if she had been surprised by something as human as crying? He was overwhelmed with a feeling of opportunity, not in the sense of gaining something, but in the sense of knowing someone who was really worth knowing. Something about her seemed to exude that feeling, and he couldn't help himself.

"My fault," Sirius offered unapologetically. "Not much point in going now though, is there? I know a park close to here…"

"Okay. After you."

* * *

Thus a routine was born. School took a back seat - Luna knew everything that was being taught anyways - and her friendship with Sirius grew in its stead. Days he was stuck at home (he had a private tutor for subjects like wizarding politics and history and etiquette and magical theory) Luna went to school, dutifully taking her tests and turning in her homework. On the days when Sirius was free, though, they would head out, disappearing into London.

At first they stayed in the neighborhood, frequenting the parks and ice cream shops. As the weeks progressed, they pressed further afield, taking the bus deeper into town. Sirius took her to the wizarding places, and she showed him the muggle stops. Together, they visited museums, stores, monuments, parks, anything they felt like. It became a test of sorts - who had the coolest destination, how late could they stay out without getting in trouble, how much they could keep from the adults. Luna sometimes got the feeling that Martha or her dad knew what she was doing, but no one ever said anything.

They talked too, discussing everything. History, what the neighborhood kids were doing, politics (both wizarding and not), pureblood supremacy, how the universe started, where they wanted to live, Grindelwald, the possibility of space travel, Dumbledore, Hogwarts in general, art, what they wanted to be when they grew up, whispers of a new Dark Lord Vol de something, literature, philosophy, which ice cream flavor was the best, anything. They were best friends, inseparable.

Close enough that Luna trusted Sirius with her secret.

They were sitting on a bench in a nice little park. It was mid afternoon, and the park was mostly empty. Sirius had a hand pressed to the right side of her ribcage and was listening in awe. He could feel the double heartbeat, just like she'd said. Ba-ba-ba-bum. Ba-ba-ba-bum. Four beats.

"That's…" he was at a loss for words. Luna looked worried though, perhaps expecting disgust, so he pressed on quickly. "Amazing. Totally amazing. You're amazing, Luna."

"D'you think?"

"Course I do. You're brilliant and powerful and you've seen _loads_ and you're pretty-" Oh no. Had he said that out loud? Sirius resisted the urge to bury his head in his hands.

"You're handsome," she replied without missing a beat. "You're smart, and funny, and nice." Sirius risked a look at her, and saw she was smiling happily. He smiled back. Both were blushing faintly. The conversation veered away to other things, but as they walked back to Grimmauld Place they held hands. Neither said anything about it.

* * *

"Ravenclaw, definitely. You're a genius."

"Slytherin. Or Gryffindor. I could see you in either."

"Really? Slytherin?"

"You're quite sneaky when you want to be. Quiet, watching in the shadows. Cunning and clever. You're brave too. Loyal."

"I'd pick Gryffindor. Just to make the family mad."

"You really don't like them, do you?"

"As soon as I turn seventeen I'm leaving," he promised.

"I think you'll be gone before that," Luna said cryptically, dreamy. Sirius cocked his head in question.

"Is that one of your prophetic Time Lady predictions or just Luna guessing."

"Prophetic prediction," she answered promptly.

"Oh. Cool." A satisfied grin fixed itself on his face for a moment before switching subjects. "Will you go to Hogwarts this year?"

"I don't know; we may be gone by then."

"Oh. Yeah, right." A pause stretched in the air, warping the atmosphere.

"I don't want to," she admitted, bothered by the silence. "I'd like to stay here."

"Yeah… I'd like you to stay too."

"But if we're still here, I think I might go. It would be interesting."

"You should. I'd miss you but… I think you would have fun," Sirius offered. "Something to keep you from being bored."

"I'm never bored with you here."

"Yeah, I know. I'm too much fun." The joke fell flat in the peculiar atmosphere.

"What would you do?"

"Lessons, probably. More pranks. Corrupt Regulus, that could be fun."

"As long as your mother doesn't disown you," Luna requested mildly. Sirius smiled and the two got off the bus.

* * *

Spring rolled into summer. An invitation to Hogwarts showed up. The TARDIS didn't. Martha quit her old job and got a new one. The Doctor took to building things and teaching Luna guitar. The house seemed to shrink, a trap they would be stuck in for God knew how long. The Doctor promised Martha that it wouldn't be longer than two years at the most, but she wasn't happy about that.

"Two years? I'm gonna lose two years in 1969?"

"Well, technically it'll be a year in 1969 and a year in 1970…" the Doctor corrected. Martha's glare cut him off.

"I didn't sign up to play housewife," she told him hotly. The Doctor held up a hand in an attempt to placate her.

"So we'll travel! See the world. It's a great time! Star Trek, Elvis, the Apollo moon landing, the Beatles, the Brady Bunch, the Nuclear Non-Proliferation Treaty, solar eclipse in Mexico, the very first Earth Day, flight of the Concord, Elton John, anti-war marches across the world. Humanity banding together to protest violence! It's a great time, Martha, we'll see it all! We'll sell the house (however that works) and travel! Bit harder without a TARDIS, but still…"

"But how'll we know the TARDIS is here if we're in Egypt or something?"

"She's programed to lock onto me, not a specific location. That way no matter where we are we'll know when she's back for us. What d'you think, Luna? See the world in 1969?"

"Actually…" Luna hesitated. "I was planning on going to Hogwarts. I got an invitation this morning."

The Doctor blinked, caught up short. "Oh. Really?" Luna nodded. The Doctor opened his mouth then closed it again. "Well then."

"But I think you should travel," she told them quickly. "I'll be up in Scotland; there's no reason for you to stay here."

"You sure, Luna?" Martha asked.

"Yes. I can nearly feel your impatience. You should travel. Don't let me hold you back."

The Doctor regarded her carefully. It would be something neither of them had done before, one staying somewhere while the other traveled. He knew, theoretically, she'd be fine. But something about the idea just rubbed him the wrong way… And from the moment she brought it up he couldn't shake the feeling that Hogwarts was a bad idea.

"I don't know, Lunette," he frowned. Luna looked at him, feeling his foreboding. He watched her eyes lose focus momentarily as she scanned the could-be world of Time. A moment later her face cleared and she shook her head.

"There's nothing worth worrying about," she promised him.

"If you're certain…" he asked.

"I am. It's something I haven't done before, Dad. I want to go."

Silence hung for a moment, then the Doctor gave a nod and grinned. "Well then. Off to Hogwarts!"

Luna grinned back. "Thanks, Dad."

"We'll leave after dropping you off at the station. Maybe get a train to somewhere else. France is nice…"

Luna slipped away as the Doctor and Martha discussed logistics, currency, and who was currently President of the United States. She was next door in moments, waiting impatiently for Sirius to get outside. He appeared.

"Luna?"

"I got in! I got in and I'm going!" She was quivering in excitement, grinning like a loon. As her declaration sank in, a matching grin spread across Sirius' face too.

"Really? That's brilliant! You're really going?"

"Dad said I can go. He and Martha are selling the house; they're going to travel while I'm there."

"But then… you won't be back during Christmas, or next summer." Sirius' face fell, and Luna's smile faded as she realized what he said was true. But it was back moments later.

"We'll stay in London over the break; we can meet up somewhere."

"Okay, that would work. You have to write me every day, alright?"

Luna laughed lightly. "Every week, maybe."

"And you have to tell me _everything_."

"I will. I promise." The two shared a smile, and then ran off down the street, holding hands as always.

* * *

September grew closer. The Doctor and Luna visited Diagon Alley (a very interesting place. The Doctor had enjoyed it) and got the supplies Luna needed for school - books, parchment, quills (and pens), robes, a trunk, potion ingredients, a cauldron, and a telescope.

She and Sirius spent more time together in the weeks leading up to Luna's departure. It was as if they were trying to cram three months of visits and adventures into three weeks; they were together nearly every waking hour. They missed each other already, and suddenly Hogwarts was on the 'do not talk about' list.

And then it was September first. Sirius waited outside his house, by the gate where they had first met in hopes that Luna would come out for one last visit, a goodbye. He scanned the street hopefully, eye often sliding to stare at Number 10.

"I can see you, you know." Sirius jumped, twisting to look in shock. There was Luna, leaning up against the brick just as she had been when he first met her. Her blonde hair was pulled back from her face in a ponytail, but a bang hung in her strange, silver eyes. Sirius battled the urge to brush it away.

"I'm not supposed to talk to muggles like you," he responded, dutifully in character as the snobbish pureblood son. It was too hard to hold, though, and grin broke over his face. "But seeing as you're not really a muggle, I suppose it's okay."

"Oh good. I was worried." They both smiled, and Sirius stepped out to give her a hug. At least she wasn't crying this time. Though she was just as pretty.

The smiles faded slightly as the situation restated itself in their minds. Sirius hesitantly reached out to take Luna's hand. "I'm gonna miss you."

"I'll miss you too," she told him. It was only a few months… but it could be forever. If the TARDIS reappeared, they would be off. Goodbye forever. Just thinking about that made Luna upset, and she could see Sirius felt the same way - the twinkle in his eye was dimmed.

"You'll write, right?" he asked again. "And, if your TARDIS comes back…"

"I'll tell you. I'll come back and say goodbye, I promise. Even if I have to fly her myself."

"Good. You'd better come back. What would I do without you?"

"You'd manage," Luna offered. Sirius shook his head but didn't say anything. Luna sighed. That was it. "Bye, Sirius."

"Bye, Luna." And then, surprising Luna, he leaned in closer and gave her a kiss on the cheek. He smiled, half embarrassed, half pleased, and all around cheeky. "I'll see you at Christmas. Don't forget to write."

"I won't." She gave him one last hug, pausing a moment to memorize his embrace. Then she pulled away. "See you later."

"Yeah. I'll see you." It was as much a farewell as a pact, a promise to see each other again. With a faint, sad smile on his face, he watched her walk away, one of her hands brushing her cheek where he'd kissed her. He blushed again, pleased.

* * *

They took a bus to King's Cross Station, finding platform 9 ¾ without too much difficulty. Though the barrier the went, and then out onto the platform.

A large, red steam engine sat on the tracks, already belching smoke. It was an old fashioned train, like the electric toy trains one bought a nephew for his birthdays. Around it milled families, wizard and muggle, loading children up into the cars, passing up trunks and bookbags and pets and shouting goodbyes over the cacophony of all that movement and color. Some were dressed in robes, some in proper muggle attire, and some in clothes that attempted to blend in but failed rather superbly in that regard. It was quite a sight to behold.

"You've got everything, right?" Martha had taken the roll of the aunt, or mother, or nanny, making sure Luna was fully stocked for the journey and subsequent months at school. "And if you don't, just… owl or something and we'll send it to you. Nothing they don't have yet, though, alright? No toasters that'll make your breakfast for you or anything. Especially not if they blow up."

"It only sparked," the Doctor protested, looking over the crowd with childlike amazement and excitement. "And I fixed it right away."

"It was singing when I walked in this morning."

"Well I wasn't going to take it's brand new artificial intelligence away. Besides, it's got a lovely voice."

"It was singing _Yesterday_."

"Oi! Don't knock the Beatles," the Doctor admonished. "They're good." Martha gave up with a sigh of exasperation and settled for hugging Luna instead.

"Be good, right? No aliens or dark lords or anything. Calm, quiet year at school."

"I'll do my best, Martha," she promised. "I don't think there's going to be anything going on."

"Well, that's good at least. I'll see you at Christmas!" She stepped back to give the Doctor a moment with her. For a moment both looked at each other, unsure how to say goodbye. For years, the other had been the only constant in a life of adventure and maddness. Now they were splitting up, if only for a few months. It was still, strange, different, inconceivable.

"Be good. Don't do anything I wouldn't do," The Doctor said finally. They both smiled at that. "And learn something new."

"I will, Dad," Luna promised. "I'll see you at Christmas."

"We'll stay here. Somewhere. Unless the TARDIS shows up… " He trailed off, pulling on an ear.

"I know. I'll owl you."

"I know you will."

"Je t'aime, Papa."

"Je t'aime aussi. Bye."

"Bye."

Trunk in hand, Luna boarded the train, settling herself in an empty compartment. As they began to pull away from the station, she poked her head out the window with dozens of other children, waving goodbye to Martha and her dad. She wasn't particularly worried, Time showed it to be a relatively calm year. Then the train gained speed, and they were around the bend, out of the station, chugging towards Scotland. To Hogwarts.

* * *

Translations:

Luna: I love you, Dad.  
The Doctor: I love you too.

This exchange didn't make it into this draft but I liked it, so I'm including it for my own enjoyment (yeah, and yours too I suppose):

**And the Doctor was covered with… was that _flour?_ "Luna, there you are! Could you, erm, help me with something? Martha just tried to burn down the kitchen…"**

**"I did not!" a voice drifted forward from the back of the house. "He was playing with the toaster again!"**

**"I was _making toast_!"**

Reviews are, as always, welcome.


	18. Chapter 18

This is one of my favorite chapters ever.

Disclaimer: I own neither Harry Potter nor Doctor Who.

* * *

14 September 1969

Dear Sirius,

Hello. Hogwarts is interesting. It reminds me of the Palace of the NaoWea on K'pella. Everything is stone. Old fashioned too, for your time. But then the entire wizarding world is. It's a bit drafty. And it's nowhere near as big as the TARDIS. Still, it's different. The staircases move, switch landings. Food appears out of nowhere. There are hidden passages and shortcuts (I think you'll enjoy them. I wish you weren't a year younger than me; it's boring exploring alone). But the strange thing… there's no science. Not really. Some arithmancy, but that's all. All the strange things the castle does (I can feel her; she's _alive_), it's all magic. Real magic. Well, technically it's harvesting the energy in the air, but I don't think anyone really cares about that. There's something different about this place. Maybe it's alien.

Classes are interesting too. The teachers are different. One of them, the potions professor, has blatant favorites. He's like a walrus. A big, happy walrus that enjoys gobstones, potioneering, and candied pineapples. The transfiguration professor is an animagus (I can see it just by looking at her. How is that possible?) and very strict. The charms professor is three feet tall. The astronomy teacher is terrible. She hasn't updated her charts since 1894 (that's seventy-five years). She has an apprentice though, Miss Sinstra, who will be a wonderful astrologer. She's up-to-date with the current astronomy. We had a lovely discussion about my name and how the muggles have made it to the moon. I like her a lot.

My dorm-mates are… closed off. There are three other girls, Cathy, Mindy, and Veronica. Cathy's nice enough, but her brother's a Hufflepuff and she spends most of her time with the 'Puffs. Mindy and Veronica… Well. They're purebloods, of course. Not quite supremacists, but very old-fashioned. You may have noticed I'm using pen - they've taken my quills. I don't mind of course; I can't use those things (and they're probably filthy. Think of the birds they came from; you could die from the diseases they carry). But it was still rude.

Another thing… I don't know who else to talk to; I've owled dad, but I don't know what he'll be able to do from Egypt. It's my Time-sense. I can see _everything_. There's no filter. No way to turn it off. Gifts people don't even know they have. What they'll do when they grow up. It's amazing, Sirius. But horrible too, because there's so much bloodshed on the horizon. Death Eaters, that's what they're called. I only catch glimpses, but it's always there, grabbing my attention. What do I do? If it doesn't stop I might end up going crazy. It's been a week and I'm already hiding. In the corners, little Luna, the loony one. Loony, that's what they're going to call me. Loony Luna. I know they will. Me, Luna knows, because Time is silent. I don't care, not really - they're only humans – but I'll always see while they will laugh at my warnings. It's easier in the places where no one is. The Library. The owlery. The hidden passages. They'll become my sanctuary.

Miss you. Sorry about how long it took me to write.

Love,

Luna

* * *

15 September 1969

Dear Luna,

I miss you too. I don't know what to say about your gift. Is it the magic in the air? But we've been to plenty of magical places before and it's never done that before. Or maybe it's a warning. All these little warnings you have, leading up to a big one. Either way, I don't know what to do. I'm sorry I can't help you. I'd join you if I could. We could explore together. Then you wouldn't have to hide alone. I think it was a good idea to write to your dad, he'll know what to do. He understands it better than I do.

I'm alone here too. Grandfather's very ill and Mother expects he's gonna die soon. That means Father would be the Head of House, and I'd be the Heir to the House of Black. So she's doubled my work load to get me ready for it. I'm not allowed out and I miss the sunlight. It's so dark here. Next year can't come fast enough. I can't wait to get to Hogwarts. Freedom from the mad family (and you're there!). Not really looking forward to the school part of it, but I'll be away from the Blacks and back with you. At the most esteemed magic school in Europe. Just think of the pranks to be pulled…

And it's really mean of those girls to steal your stuff. Don't stand for it; you're much better than they are. They're jealous. Tell me if anyone else does anything. I'll beat 'em up (Not really. Well, maybe scare them a bit. But nothing permanent, I promise). But really, don't let them treat you like that. You're smarter, nicer, better at magic, and prettier than them. I promise.

Love,

Sirius

P.S. You seem to have forgotten the most important part of writing to me - WHAT HOUSE ARE YOU IN?

* * *

23 September 1969

Dear Sirius,

I have no time here. The teachers enjoy homework; I've six essays to write by the end of the week. And four chapters to read. And some of it is busy work. I'm somewhat disappointed. But I've taken to researching in the Library, and that's wonderful. There's so much there to learn. The librarian, Madame Pince, is really nice. She's new, but she loves books and wants to share them with everyone. Pity it won't last. School librarian is a job that will hurt her in the long run. But that's besides the point - I've got no time to write. In addition to homework I'm doing an on-the-side project on wizards in space for Miss Sinstra. Don't look at me like that; it's really interesting. I'm also thinking of looking into animagi; Professor McGonagall has me intrigued. I think you'd be interested too. Imagine being able to turn into another animal!

And my house, how could I forget? I'm in Ravenclaw. You were right, I suppose, but I'm not surprised. The house of the intelligent seems like the best fit for me. Still, there's no one to talk to; they're always _studying_. Another reason to spend time in the Library. Mindy and Veronica took my shoes the other day. I took their underwear and hung it from the ceiling in various classrooms. They've left me alone since then. I don't know how long it will last. At least I've gotten my shoes back. Don't worry - I can deal with it. Waiting for Christmas.

Love,

Luna

* * *

2 October 1969

Dear Luna,

Grandfather died, and my schedule has suddenly been filled by everything but time to write to you. I'm actually sad he died - he was the only sane one. Now Dad's the Head of House and suddenly everything I do has much more weight because I'm Heir. Mother's disproving of our letters (I think she thinks she can pile so many things on me so that I won't have time to write you). I decked out the house elf heads with Mardi Gras beads and garlands. Not the best comeback, but I'm not feeling it right now. I hate it here.

I can't wait to see you. Three months…

Love,

Sirius

* * *

30 October 1969

Dear Sirius,

Two months.

Where has time gone? Mindy and Veronica are much nicer after my friend Alice Greengrass told them they were being bad examples of Ravenclaws and even Hufflepuffs behave better. I've been fending off a second year boy who won't leave me alone, though. His name is Andrew, and he's a bit weedy and awkward, and he's going to die by the age of eighteen. Every time I see him I see his dead body too. I've been avoiding him, but it means I haven't been able to get to the owlery; he's been hiding out there, lying in wait. The Library too - I think he may be following me. The professors are already piling on review work for the end of term exams in December. That's over a month away. Why do they want so much work? I find myself being brought over to your side of the argument - school work really is terrible.

Anyways. Happy Halloween!

Love,

Luna

* * *

4 November 1969

Dear Luna,

Just tell that Andrew bloke that you've got a guy back home. And if he keeps bugging you I'll prank him. I promise.

I'm too busy to write much. And Mother's refused to let me talk to you anymore because it's 'unbecoming of an Heir of the House of Black.' So I'm getting Reg to ship these off to you. He's cool; the house is bad for him. He could be so much more without Mother hovering over him all the time. I really hope he'll be okay once I go to Hogwarts: a year with Mother might destroy all the good qualities I've cultivated within him.

Have to go now - Tutor's coming back in! Back to history of the Monarchy I go. Miss you!

Love,

Sirius

* * *

14 November 1969

Sirius,

Miss you too. Christmas can't come fast enough.

Luna

* * *

15 November 1969

Dear Luna,

Are you alright? That was a really short note. Has something happened?

Reg says hello by the way. He keeps calling you my girlfriend. Haha.

Love,

Sirius

* * *

23 November 1969

Dearest Padfoot,

No, no, it's okay. It's actually been not-that-bad. Alice is lovely. She's in Hufflepuff, and she and Cindy are my best friends. M and V keep to themselves. Andrew's still following me but he's afraid to talk to me while Cindy and Alice are here.

I have cultivated another personality though. Have you met Loony? Will and I used to make them up while I lived with the Pack. She's quite nice. Dreamy. Mad, calmly insane. Always saying what she sees, going on about her imaginary creatures and crackpot theories. (She'd map out roads through hell with her crackpot theories.)

But don't worry, I haven't snapped. Actually, it sort of helps me not see the future and all that. I think I just need stronger shields. I've never really needed them before. Dad says meditating and focus will help. He's promised to go through some tricks with me when we come home for Christmas.

Love,

Luna

P.S. Tell Regulus I say hello back and if he keeps saying things like that he'll find toads in his bed or something.

* * *

29 November 1969

Dear Luna,

That's... actually sounds like a good idea. Mediatation too. Have you heard of Occulumency? It's sort of like that, a way of blocking and ordering your mind. I've sent you a book from our library (Reg had to get it: I'm not allowed in after I broke a vase in mid-October). Anyways, Mother won't miss it: she's completely insane and guards everything fiercely, but she has no idea what's in our house because she relies on the house elves to keep track of things.

One question though - why did you call me 'Padfoot?'

Love,

Sirius

* * *

13 December 1969

Dear Sirius,

It's a name, from your future. Padfoot. I'm not sure what for, but it's you. Or, it will be you. Or maybe it already has been you. …That didn't really make sense. Sorry, I can't explain it very well.

Happy Birthday! I've enclosed a present for you. I think you might like it.

I've got to go study. I'll see you next week!

Love,

Luna

* * *

18 December 1969

Dear Luna,

I get it. I think.

Thanks for the birthday present. _Pranks of the Century_ was good, but I really liked the notes on anamagi. I've been interested in that since you brought it up, but I couldn't access any of those books in the Black library. Mother won't let me in there anymore; the tutors have to bring the books out (and Reg, of course, but that's our secret). You're brilliant, Luna.

And you'll be here in two days! I can't wait! I'm so excited; I've missed you. You can tell me everything, face to face!

Love,

Sirius

* * *

20 December 1969

Sirius,

I'm back. The park.

Love,

Luna

* * *

Sirius gripped the letter with a bright glint in his eye. Luna was back! She was waiting for him, in their park. Well, it wasn't really _their_ park, but that's what they called it. And Reg was running interference while he slipped out of the house. He owed his brother something. A cake, maybe, or a very expensive book. But that though was overwhelmed instantly by the glowing idea that consisted of _Luna is back!_ and he was off running.

Luna loitered in the park, warm in her coat. She had met the Doctor and Martha at the station, and now she was waiting for Sirius. It was wonderful, being out of there. Not that she had hated Hogwarts - the amount of _stuff_ there available to her had been fantastic. Classes were just _so boring_. Next year, though, next year would be wonderful. As long as she was still then and not in, say, 3466. She looked up suddenly, aware of eyes on her. Yes, there was Sirius. Looking more mature, and wearing a grin that could put her dad's to shame. She could feel one creeping over her own face as she stood up. Then they were both hurrying towards each other, running, hugging, spinning, smiling, laughing, happy.

Luna noted idly that he'd grown. His hair was longer, pulled back into a ponytail of all things. And he was taller too, taller than her. That was a novel experience. He carried himself differently too; whatever lessons his mother had been beating him over the head with had obviously sunk in to some degree. Overall, he looked very good. Luna blushed at the thought.

"You look good," he told her after a moment of cross examination, echoing her though. Luna grinned, happy just to see him again.

"You too. It's great to see you."

"Yeah. I missed you." She'd changed, but in a good way. The ability to go out and try something new had done her good. And she was cute in the slightly too-large coat with pink cheeks from the wind. Oh, it was so wonderful to see her again. "How was Hogwarts?"

"Fine," she offered, sitting on a nearby bench. "The people were, well… I've told you. But the actual school! And the Library! I love that Library, Sirius."

"More than you love me?" he asked in mock hurt. Luna whacked his arm.

"Of course not. Your ego hasn't shrunk at all since September, has it?"

Sirius grinned charmingly. "Nope."

Luna smiled back. "One day it's going to get too big for your poor neck to hold up."

"Nah, you'd keep me in line."

"Yeah. I would."

"So… Where do you want to go this time?"

"I've heard about a gig down by the Thames…"

* * *

It was a week from their old life. The busses, the walks through London, the chatting, the museums and stores and parks and events. Then Christmas. Luna spent a quiet morning with the Doctor and Martha eating chocolates and watching telly after exchanging the few presents each had. The Doctor had particularly enjoyed a toaster of his own. Martha told Luna afterwards it was to keep him from destroying the hotel's.

She met up with Sirius at their park and the two wandered about the city, bundled against the cold, hand in hand. Making the most of the time they had. They ended up going ice skating for a little while, then hanging out at one of their old favorite haunts for hot chocolate and biscuits, just chatting. Enjoying the evening.

Another week of wandering. In London it was impossible to run out of new places to explore, to visit. They got in trouble, they got out of trouble, they pranked, the simply wandered and talked, and in general they appreciated the company of the other.

New Years Eve they went out to see the fireworks. Color bloomed over the river while London watched, bidding farewell to the old and welcoming the new. Goodbye, nineteen sixty-nine. Hello, nineteen seventy.

"New year," Sirius noted. Luna nodded, watching the fireworks.

"It's going to change," Luna told him suddenly. Sirius looked over to her in question.

"Huh?"

"The world," she continued. "There's something coming… A shadow flying over us." Sirius shivered, feeling everything dim for a moment. "I want to stay and help everyone…"

Sirius quietly wrapped an arm around her as she shivered, though whether it was from the cold or from her visions he didn't know. She twisted her head to look at him, and he suddenly realized how close they were. Out over the water the countdown began.

_Ten…_

_Nine…_

"You know the New Year's Eve tradition, don't you Luna?"

_Eight…_

"Yes."

_Seven…_

_Six…._

_Five…_

"Would you mind if I…?"

_Four…_

_Three…_

"No."

_Two…_

"You sure?"

"Yes."

_One…_

_"Happy New Year!"_

"Happy New Year, Sirius."

"Happy New Year, Luna."

* * *

Luna was woken early the next morning to a familiar sound. The sound she'd been waiting for, the sound of freedom. The sound of the universe.

The sound of the TARDIS materializing.

She sat up in bed. Slowly. Elation and sorrow vied for precedence in her head.

There was a sudden noise in the main room of their cheap hotel suite. A bouncing, excited noise. Her dad was overjoyed, feeling like he'd been reunited after too long a separation. Which, she reasoned, he had been. Martha's happiness could be heard from the room as they moved about the newly-present TARDIS, welcoming it's return.

Luna stayed in her room. _No…_ But how could she not be filled with joy? The TARDIS was back. They were free again, free to run. She had missed the running more than anything. The days, weeks, years on the run, just her and Dad, and the occasional addition to their team, cut short by the weeping angels. Now it could be Luna and the Doctor in the TARDIS. Again.

But Sirius… she didn't want to go. She wanted to stay in 1970. Stay with him. She liked him… And more than just as a friend. Thinking back on the night before a smile danced briefly on her lips. It slid away a moment later though. Because would be going, and she had no say in it. Not because of her dad, or the TARDIS, or Martha. Because of Time. She wasn't quite sure what he had in his future, but she did know she wasn't going to be part of it. Maybe they'd meet again. Maybe. But there was no promise there, not like the promise there had been with Boe's death. Luna sighed and ran a hand down her face. Sometimes she hated her gift.

Resigned to the future, she slid out of bed and padded into the room. The sun was just rising. New Year's Day. A fresh start. How appropriate.

The TARDIS sat in the middle of the room as if it had always been there. The Doctor stroked her gently, lovingly. He was grinning silently, eyes alight. The door was open, and Martha's glee echoed through the cavernous control room out into the hotel room. The Doctor looked up when she entered. Luna smiled faintly, brushing a hand along the TARDIS. Warmth bloomed in her mind, the ship's hello to her.

"Hello," Luna murmured back. She could feel her dad watching her, and turned to look at him.

His eyes had that unreadable look. Oh, he knew. She knew he knew. He didn't bother talking to her, didn't try to say anything. What was there to say? The Doctor gave one nod, solemn, sorry. Luna offered a half-smile in return and slipped out the door.

It was cold, and she didn't have her coat, but she couldn't feel the temperature. Time Lord physiology. She took the bus to their park. She didn't really expect to find him there, but for some reason it seemed like the right place to go. And it was, because there was Sirius. Sitting on the bench. The first place they had ever gone. And the last. It was a sweet, sad sort of symmetry. Innocent in it's imagery.

"Goodbye," she greeted. Sirius understood immediately.

"You're not wearing your coat. You must be freezing."

"I'm fine. I can withstand extremes more than you can."

"Of course you can. Magical Time Lady." He gave a laugh, but it was hollow.

She waited silently.

"I don't want to say it," he said petulantly. As if by not admitting it, it wouldn't happen.

Luna gave him a look. A sad look, an old look. Sirius wanted to wipe it away. It was frightening, seeing that look in her. It was _wrong_. She shouldn't look like that. She wasn't old enough to look like that.

"I know." The simple response made Sirius want to hit her, jolt her back to herself. Who was she and where was _his_ Luna? The one who cared?

"Luna…"

"Don't say anything. Please, don't." Luna interrupted. "Just say goodbye so I can go."

"Do you want to?"

"Don't ask me that."

"But do you?"

"I can't stay. Sirius, you have to understand. I _can't _stay."

"But _do you want to go_?"

"…I don't know. I don't have a choice, Sirius."

"What are you talking about? Of course you do. Stay here, Luna. You can come to Hogwarts with me. You can see the future, can't you see that? Us, at Hogwarts?" Together?

Almost against her will, Luna's focus drifted. Flashes. A sorting, sitting together in the Library, four boys… Laughing in the snow, visits to Hogsmead, mistletoe, closer, eyes closed… Animals laughing together at midnight, holding hands, good natured ribbing from friends… A family, a linear life full of love… Names and faces. Possibilities. Another life.

Not hers.

"You're crying," Sirius said quietly, bringing her back to the present. "You're pretty when you cry. But then, you're always pretty, Luna."

"Sirius…"

"No. No, you were right, don't say anything. I'm sorry. I'm really sorry, Luna. I understand. Well, I don't really, not completely. But I understand enough."

"Thank you."

Silence. Neither willing to say it. And then, like their last goodbye, a soft kiss to her cheek.

"Goodbye, Luna."

"Goodbye, Sirius."

_I'll wait for you. I'll miss you. I'll love you. _

* * *

The TARDIS door creaked open slowly, a sliver of the world outside showing through for a moment. A shadow formed in the opening, obscuring that world. Then the door closed.

Luna looked over the console. Home. Despite the dry, rung out feeling inside her, she felt the warmth that resonated within that syllable. And next to the console, inside Home, was another syllable worth of noun that has a similar feeling to go with it.

Dad.

Suddenly, she _missed_ him. Missed him more than anything. It had been ages since they had talked. Since they had sat in the kitchen with the singing toaster and played guitar. Since he had been Father and she had been Daughter. Human life in 1969 - _Wizarding_ life in 1969 - had split them. Now she was just tired, and feeling lonely and spent, and wanted a hug from her dad. A big, warm, safe, 'everything will be alright' hug.

The Doctor complied. He didn't question her, didn't admonish her, didn't say anything at all. He just hugged her, wrapping his long, lanky arms around the girl in comfort.

"I'm sorry, Lunette. I'm so sorry." She was too young for that, for this, for his life.

"Will it get easier?"

"I don't know." He wished he did, so he could give her the answer. But he didn't. One never knew, not really. Not until they experienced it themselves. No one else could ever answer that question.

"Are we going now?"

"Yes."

"Okay." And that was it. Suddenly it was all back to where it was before. Well, almost. Because Luna still carried that loss, that possibility of something that wouldn't happen.

But - and she doesn't know it yet - it will be alright. One day she'll wake up and know that it was wonderful while it lasted, but Time never meant it to be. And she'll find closure. For now, though, she bows her head and moves on. It's what her father always does. Now it's her turn to do it too.

* * *

Someone said something to me, and I'm still mulling it over. Am I "cold" to my characters? I guess I am. It's just… happy endings are so rare. I love happy stories, but they're be so boring to read. And, well… it's hard to write happy. There's no story without conflict, right? So bring on the conflict. There. That's my bit of introspection for the day. What do you think?

Yes, the tense change was intentional.

Reviews are, as always, welcome.


	19. Chapter 19

Disclaimer: I own neither Harry Potter nor Doctor Who.

* * *

_Vworp. Vworp. Vworp. Thump._

"Here we are, then. Cardiff."

"Seven months without the TARDIS and you bring us to _Cardiff_? What is there in Cardiff?"

"Oi! We went to Rexel for Luna's birthday too, remember?"

"Yeah, but… Cardiff?"

"There's a rift," Luna interrupted. "The TARDIS uses its energy for power."

The Doctor gave her a quick smile. "Exactly. The old girl needs some fuel after that whole fiasco with the weeping angels. Just open up the engines and she'll soak up all that energy."

"And we're off again," Luna finished.

"So it's a pit stop."

"Yup," the Doctor nodded. "Pit stop."

"Hold on…" Martha gave him a look. "There was an earthquake in Cardiff a couple of years ago. Was that…?"

"Bit of trouble with the Slitheen," the Doctor waved off. Luna looked at him.

"Really? When was that."

"Long time ago. Lifetimes, actually; I was a different man back then." The TARDIS dinged. "There we go. All powered up!"

The Doctor smiled with a tilt of his head, looking down at the monitor, starting up the TARDIS. Luna turned to help but paused, sensing something. A not-quite-finished but familiar something. Before she could pinpoint it, though, the TARDIS began dematerializing. Then the console sparked, the ship shook violently, and everyone was thrown around.

"What's that?" Martha asked, clinging to the console.

"We're accelerating," the Doctor replied, bewildered. "Into the future."

Luna read out the numbers as they appeared on the monitor she was gripping. "One billion. Five billion. Five trillion. Fifty trillion. One hundred trillion. That's interesting."

"That's impossible," the Doctor protested.

"Why? What does that mean?"

The Doctor looked over to her, worried. "We're going to the end of the universe."

The TARDIS screeched around them. Then, with a sudden thud, everything stopped. A tense silence filled its place, no one quite wanting to break it. Then,

"We're here," Luna murmured. "We've arrived."

"Where are we?" Martha asked, hushed. "What's out there."

The Doctor stood up, brushing himself off. "I don't know."

Martha rose too, looking equally intrigued and uncertain. "Say that again," she asked, half-joking. "That's rare."

"Not even the Time Lords came this far," the Doctor continued, ignoring Martha in favor of the situation at hand.

"We should leave," Luna offered. Time here felt different. Felt old, felt tired. How was it possible for something that stretched inexorably both forwards and back to feel something as mortal and finite as _tired_? She didn't like it. And yet…

"Yeah," the Doctor agreed. "We should go. We should really…" But there was that light in his eyes as he looked at Luna, and he could see that same fire shining. "Go," he finished. And then he couldn't stand it any longer. He grinned widely and led the way out of the TARDIS. Out to the end of the universe.

The first thing Luna noticed was how dark it was, dark and lifeless. No plants, no light, no anything. Just a moonless night with a few coldly glittering starts lighting the dark, rocky terrain.

The second thing she noticed was the dead man lying not to far from the TARDIS. And if anything, that was even more interesting than the setting. Because although her physical senses told her he was dead, he didn't feel it. In the gold he was dim, but not dark, and the swirling pattern of his specific Time signature wasn't slipping away. It was still there, in all it's complex twists and knots, reminding her of someone she had met before, someone who tasted the same in Time, but was much older, much more layered and complex. If only she could place the memory…

But her train of though was cut off as Martha ran past her to crouch by the man. The Doctor looked down at him as the doctor-in-training rushed by, glancing over his dark hair and distinctive RAF greatcoat.

"I can't get a pulse," she told them. "Hold on, you've got that medkit thingy." She disappeared back into the TARDIS, and the Doctor moved towards the dead-but-not man. Luna followed.

"Hello again," her dad said down to him. "Oh, I'm sorry."

"He feels familiar," Luna murmured to her dad. "And wrong. And... it's okay." The Doctor glanced at her as Martha returned with the medical kit.

"He should. Feel wrong, that is," he replied. "He's a fixed point in time. An impossibility. It's your Time Lord sense, picking that up."

"He's dead," Martha interrupted, rocking back on her heels to look down at the man.

"No he's not," Luna told her. As if to punctuate that remark, he gasped, jerking up and grabbing onto Martha. She shrieked.

"It's all right, just breath deep. I've got you," she told him, medical training kicking in, though the order could have been directed at herself as well.

"Captain Jack Harkness. And who are you?" The man had an American accent and a glittering smile that matched his smooth words.

"Martha Jones," Martha responded, slightly shaky.

"Nice to meet you, Martha Jones." Jack flashed her another smile.

"Oh, don't start," the Doctor grumbled. Jack looked over at him, and his smile melted into a scowl.

"I was just saying hello."

"I don't mind," Martha offered. She helped Jack up, moving out of the way as Jack stared at the Doctor coldly.

"Doctor."

"Captain," the Time Lord returned.

"Good to see you." It didn't quite sound like it though.

"You too. Same as ever. Although… did you have work done?"

"You can talk."

"Oh, right, the face. Regeneration. How did you know this was me?"

"The police box kinda gives it away," Jack pointed out. "And… I've ben following you for a long time." There was a pause. Then, accusing, "You abandoned me."

"Did I?" the Doctor asked, offhanded. "Busy life, move on."

"Just… I gotta ask. The Battle of Canary Wharf. I saw the list of the dead. It said…" he hesitated before continuing softly. "It said Rose Tyler."

"Oh, no! Sorry! She's alive!" The Doctor grinned with forced cheer, but Jack either didn't notice it or didn't comment.

"You're kidding?" he asked instead. Luna watched the exchange, intrigued by Jack, by the connection to her father's past.

"Parallel world, safe and sound. And Mickey, and her mother!"

"Oh yes!" Jack grinned, springing forward to hug the Doctor. As Luna watched, curiosity got the better of her. She interrupted the moment with a quiet question.

"You traveled with Dad and Rose?"

Jack stepped back, noticing Luna for the first time. He looked between her and the Doctor.

"Doc?" he asked slowly. The Doctor winced imperceptibly.

"Oh, right. Luna, this is Captain Jack. Jack… my daughter, Luna." _And if you try anything with her I'll have Martha castrate you._

"And since when do you have a daughter?"

"We met about five years ago," Luna offered. "I'm half Time Lord."

"I though you were the only one," Jack said to Doctor; surprised, not accusing.

"So did I," the Doctor replied. "Her father was a Time Lord; he hid on Earth… It's difficult to explain."

"I'll say," Jack muttered, looking at Luna. Luna looked back at him.

"You're really interesting," she told him seriously.

"I'm… okay. Cool," Jack replied, thrown off and just a little intrigued. "Nice to meet you?"

"Nice to meet you too," Luna responded, shaking his hand. Jack turned to the Doctor, returning to what he knew best in the face of this new particular.

"She's a bit…"

"Not crazy," the Doctor finished for him, half-warning. "She's like me, when I was younger. Can't focus through everything in her mind yet. It's typical."

"I'm learning," she insisted. The Doctor grinned at her.

"That you are. C'mon, off we go." Luna gave her dad a small smile and let him tug her away, leaving Jack and Martha to trail along behind, Jack staring after them in mild disbelief.

* * *

"Why did you split up?" Martha asked. They were walking behind Luna and the Doctor, discussing a range of subjects - how long Martha had traveled with the Doc, how Jack had met him, what each other had seen, where they were from.

"It wasn't my choice," Jack said, laugh slightly forced. "There I was in 200100, ankle deep in Dalek dust, and he goes off without me. Thing is, I had this." He tapped the watch-like device wrapped around his wrist. "It's called a Vortex Manipulator. I used to be a Time Agent, they use these. He's not the only one who can time travel." The barb was directed at the Doctor. At the challenge he twisted around to look at Jack.

"Excuse me, _that_ is not time travel. It's like… _I've_ got a sports car and _you've_ got a space hopper."

Martha laughed at that. "Oh, boys and their toys."

"Alright, so I _bounced_," Jack scowled. "I thought 'Twenty-first century, best time to find the Doctor.' Except that I got it a little wrong. Wound up in 1869, and this thing burnt out so it was useless."

"Told you," the Doctor called back. Luna elbowed him, smiling.

"I had to live through the entire twentieth century waiting for a version of you that would coincide with me," Jack grumbled.

"It's good for you," Luna offered. Jack scowled, but it lacked any real rancor.

"You look good for two hundred," Martha placated him.

"Thanks," Jack smiled, diving back into his story. "I based myself in Cardiff, near the rift. Knew he'd come back to refuel at some point. Finally got a signal detecting you were there and here we are."

"How come he left you there in the first place?" Martha asked.

"I was busy," the Doctor replied.

"Two deaths, an impossibility, and a goddess," Luna said.

"That sounds about right," the Doctor nodded. "Ooh, look at that."

They were at the edge of a cliff. Stretching in front of them were the remains of some sort of city, an organic-looking mass of spires reaching high into the dark sky.

"Is that a city?" Martha asked.

"A city or a hive. Or a nest. Or a conglomeration," the Doctor listed them off. "Looks like it was grown though. And there are pathways, roads maybe… Must have been some sort of life here."

"Before the light died," Luna nodded.

"What killed it?"

"Time." The Doctor sounded sad. "Just time. Everything's dying now. All the great civilizations have gone. This isn't just night; the stars have burned up and faded away."

"The planet must have an atmospheric shell. We should be frozen to death," Jack said.

"Well, Martha and Luna and I, maybe. Not so sure about you, Jack." He gave the Captain a knowing look.

"What about everyone?" Martha asked, caring as always for the people. "Does no one survive?"

"Life always finds a way," Luna replied.

"Yeah. And he's doing pretty well," Jack broke in, pointing. Below them a lone man was running from a group of torch-carrying creatures.

"Is it just me, or does that look like a hunt?" the Doctor asked rhetorically. "Come on!"

They took off, all four racing down the gravel hill to. Jack was laughing as if they were playing on a beach and not racing towards a group of feral, bloodthirsty-looking men. Luna smiled at his enthusiasm. She liked him; he was like a cool uncle. Uncle Jack.

Who was currently holding onto the man who had been running, encouraging him to calm down and tell them what was going on. His attempt was being completely ignored, however, in favor of writhing panic and the repeated shout of "They're coming!" Jack handed him off to the Doctor, drawing his revolver instead to aim it at the human-like creatures.

"Don't you dare," the Doctor ordered him over the shouts of the creatures and the man. Jack hesitated for a second, then shot into the air twice. The creatures jolted to a stop.

"What the hell are they?" Martha squeaked.

"There's more of them, we have to keep going," the running man insisted, looking around wildly at the now-stationary beings.

"I've got a ship nearby, it's safe," the Doctor promised to the panicked man. "It's not far, it's just over there." He twisted to point at the hill the TARDIS was just over and sighed.

"Or not," Luna murmured, following his line of sight to where more of the creatures were racing down towards them the same way they had come.

"We're close to the Silo," the man told them. "If we get to the Silo, we're safe."

"Silo?" the Doctor asked the others.

"Silo," Jack and Luna nodded instantly.

"Silo for me," Martha agreed. The man didn't wait for them. He took off, and the travelers followed as the man led them to the Silo - a large, gated complex complete with watchtowers and guards. Guards who weren't too keen to let them in.

"Show me your teeth! Show me your teeth!" the guard ordered repeatedly, holding a gun at them through the gate.

"Show them your teeth," the running man ordered, baring his teeth for the guard. The four followed suit, and once he had checked them all over the guard let them through the gate, chaining it shut again behind them.

"Thanks," the Doctor panted as the creatures backed up, watching.

"Let's get you inside," the guard responded, leaving his fellows to keep watch.

"My name is Padrafet Shafekane," the man who had been running said to the guard. "Please, can you take me to Utopia?"

"Yes, sir. Yes I can."

Luna turned to her dad. 'Utopia?' she mouthed. As in _the_ perfect society, the one that could never be realized - never had been, never would be? _That_ Utopia?

He shrugged and they trailed after the guard into the complex.

* * *

People lined corridors, every conceivable inch of space. Eyes followed them as a young boy led them deeper into the complex. They were crouched together, sitting on dirty and worn blankets, chewing on some sort of dried supplement. Humans hiding from the dying universe around them, clinging to the meager safety the gated complex with its towers and guards offered.

"Seems like a refugee camp," Martha murmured.

"Stinking," Jack agreed. A nearby man glared at him. "No offense, sorry."

"The ripe old smell of humans," the Doctor grinned. "You survived. Might've spent a million years evolving into clouds and another million as downloads, but you always revert to the same basic shape. The fundamental humans. End of the universe and here you are. Indomitable, that's the word. Indomitable!"

In front of them the man they had followed - Padrafet - jumped away, leaping forward to hug what Luna took to be his family. She smiled faintly at the display.

"It's not all bad news," Martha commented down to her. She nodded in agreement.

Jack interrupted the moment, ambushing a man walking down the hall with help of his charm. The Doctor, who was attempting to open one of the doors, wasn't having it.

"Stop it," he ordered. "Luna, could you give me a hand with this?" He buzzed his sonic at it while the girl fiddled with the keypad. Jack watched her work with respect.

"Where'd you learn how to hack a deadlock?" he asked her.

"Around," she replied, half attentive. "It's a good skill to have."

"She gonna grow up into a little thief if you're not careful, Doc."

"Thanks, Uncle Jack, but I think Dad might have something to say about that."

Jack smiled at the title. "There's nothing wrong with being a conman."

"Don't go putting ideas in her head, Jack," the Doctor admonished. "Oops!"

The door slid open suddenly, and the Time Lord just managed to catch himself on the frame, leaning out over the chasm that appeared on the others side. And in the middle of that…

"Now _that_ is what I call a rocket," Martha said in awe.

"There not refugees," the Doctor murmured with realization. "They're passengers."

"To Utopia," Luna nodded, peering around Martha at the rocket sitting in the center of the Silo. "Same old dream."

"One hundred trillion years and you're still searching for the perfect world," the Doctor marveled in agreement. "I love humans."

Luna tilted her head. "I don't recognize the engines."

"Me neither. Jack?"

"Nope. It's not rocket science, whatever it is. Hot, though."

"Very," Luna agreed. The four moved back and Luna closed the door with a quick flurry of buttons.

"One question though, Doctor," Martha asked. "If the entire universe is falling apart-"

"What is Utopia?" the Doctor finished with her. She nodded. "I don't know."

They were interrupted by an older man hurrying up to them, brushing past the other passengers. He walked up to them, then looked between Jack and the Doctor, seeming slightly hesitant. Or perhaps confused.

"The Doctor?" he tried, looking at Jack. Jack smirked and shook his head. Behind the old man, the Doctor tapped his shoulder.

"That's me," he told him.

"Good!" the old man exclaimed, grabbing his hand. "Good! Good. Good, good, good, good, goodgoodgood!" Without further ado (or an introduction) the man dragged the Doctor off, repeating 'good!' as if he were a broken record. The Doctor looked back bemused at his companions as he was dragged off by the overzealous man.

"It's good apparently," the told them before being whisked around the corner. Luna glanced at the other two before hurrying after him. Jack and Martha followed a split second later, both amazed at the Doctor's ability to get embroiled with whatever was going on at the current time period they were in (or in trouble, but that was a different matter).

* * *

The man - Professor Yana - was in fact the head of the project to actually get the rocket to Utopia. He led them down to his lab at the lower levels of the Silo, talking all the time about the gavitissimal accelerator and the footprint impeller system and endgame gravity and other such things that went of the heads of Martha and Jack, and even Luna to some degree. The Doctor, however, was nodding along as if he understood every word. Which he probably did.

The lab, when they entered it, was being manned by a blue-skinned, insectoid. She looked up when they entered, antenna waving subtly.

"Chan - welcome - tho," she murmured in greeting.

"Hello," Luna replied, eyes following Yana as he hopped around the lab, showing the Doctor the different pieces of equipment and trying to make sense of it all.

"Hello," Martha said. "Who are you?"

"Chan - Chantho - tho."

"Captain Jack Harkness," Jack introduced himself.

"Stop it," the Doctor ordered from across the lab, seemingly completely engrossed in Yana's explanations.

"Can't I say hello to anyone?" Jack complained.

"No," Luna replied with a grin. Jack harrumphed good naturally.

"Chan - I do not protest - tho," Chantho told him with a shy smile. Jack winked at her.

"Maybe later, Blue." He turned to scan the lab, looking over the equipment with a practiced eye that told Luna he might have a better idea what was going on than he let on. Which would make sense, with all he must have seen in his lifetime so far.

"And all this feeds into the rocket?" the Doctor asked Yana, who had finally finished his explanation.

"Yes. Except without a stable footprint we'll never achieve escape velocity. If we could harmonize the five impact patterns and unify them, well, we might make it. But I don't know how we'd do that. What do you think, Doctor, any ideas?"

"Well, um, basically…" He looked over the mess of wires, cords, cables, plugs, and other miscancelous equipment, then sighed. "Not a clue."

Yana wilted visibly. "Nothing?"

"I'm not from these parts. I understand the theory, I think, but I've never seen a system like this. Sorry."

"If you could reverse the stabilizers, up them by a ratio of 2:5, then plug the variations into Matella's Sequence then you might be able to find a better frequency to harmonize the patterns, but that would take six days and wouldn't necessarily work," Luna said. "At least, I think that could work. I don't quite understand the equipment."

"You're rather young," Yana noted. "What are you doing tagging along with them?" _And how do you know all that_ was the unspoken second question.

"He's my dad," Luna pointed to the Doctor as if that answer everything.

"Indeed," Yana nodded, looking her over. "Well, we could try it, I suppose. I'm about ready to try anything." He sighed heavily. "There's been no help."

"Oh my God!" Martha's exclamation rang through the lab. Luna turned to see her holding a hand in a bubbling jar, looking it over with revolution. She turned to Jack in incredulity. "You've got a hand. A hand in a jar. A hand in a jar in your bag."

"Hey! That's my hand!" The Doctor moved over to peer at his own hand in Jack's gently bubbling jar. If anything this made Martha even more incredulous.

"I've got a Doctor detector," Jack responded nonchalantly.

Chantho looked on in confusion. "Chan - is this a tradition among your people - tho?"

"Not on my street," Martha told her before turning back to interrogate the Doctor. "And what d'you mean that's your hand. You've got both your hands, I can see them."

"Long story. I lost it Christmas Day. In a swordfight."

"What, and you just _grew_ another hand?"

"Um… well, yeah. Yeah, I did." He waved it at her. "Hello."

"You're creeping them out, Dad," Luna said in a stage whisper.

"If you don't mind me asking, what species are you?" Yana asked him.

"Time Lord. Last of. Well, just about; except for Luna here. Ever heard of them?" Yana shook his head. "Legend or anything?" the Doctor tried. Yana shook his head again. "Not even a myth? Blimey, end of the universe is a bit humbling."

"Chan - I am the last of my species too - tho," Chantho told him.

"Sorry, what was your name?" the Doctor asked her. Yana answered for her.

"This is my good friend, Chantho. A survivor of the Malmooth. This was their planet, Malcassairo, before we took refuge."

"So the city outside was yours," Luna said.

"Chan - the conglomeration. It died - tho."

"Conglomeration! That's what I said," the Doctor exclaimed.

"You're supposed to say sorry," Jack told him.

"Oh, yes." He grew somber immediately. "Sorry."

"Chan - most grateful - tho."

"So what are those things outside?" Jack asked, changing the subject. "The Beastie Boys."

"We call them the Futurekind," Yana responded. "It's a myth itself, but it's feared that's what we'll become, unless we reach Utopia."

"What do you mean by Utopia?" Luna asked. "I thought it could never exist."

"Everyone knows of Utopia," Yana told her, puzzled. "Where have you been?"

"We're sort of, erm, hermits," the Doctor replied, putting a hand on her shoulder.

"A hermit with friends?" Yana asked dryly. "And a family?"

"Hermits United," the Doctor nodded as if it explained everything. "We meet up every ten years. Swap stories about caves. It's good fun. For a hermit." Yana didn't look at all convinced. "So… Utopia?"

Yana stared at him for a moment more, then humored his excuse and led them over to a monitor where a blinking red dot flickered on and off on the screen. He pointed at it.

"The call came from here. 'Come to Utopia,' over and over again. Somewhere beyond the Condensate Wilderness, in the dark matter reefs. Calling us, the last of the humans, from where we were scattered across the night."

"What's out there?" Luna asked. Yana shrugged.

"I don't know. A colony, a city, a haven? The Science Foundation created the Utopia Project thousands of years ago to preserve mankind - to survive past the collapse of reality itself. Perhaps they found what they were looking for. Perhaps not. It's worth a look, don't you think?"

"Oh, yes," the Doctor replied, grinning. He started off on a ramble about something, but Luna stopped paying attention. Something was happening to Professor Yana. His signature in the gold had shifted suddenly, deepening with a hint of something hidden away. There was a drumming in the air, an endless beat that came out of nowhere all of a sudden. Then it was gone, and Yana was scowling at her as she stared at him.

"Right, that's enough talk," he said sharply, standing. "There's work to do. If you could leave, thank you."

The Doctor looked to her in confusion, and Luna shrugged. Yana had changed, had switched suddenly. It wasn't something she had ever felt someone do before. He had suddenly become… well, older, if it were possible, but only halfway. Something hidden in his mind, in his history, had surfaced for some reason.

"Are you alright?" the Doctor asked the Professor.

"I'm fine. And busy!" he snapped back, fiddling with switches. Uselessly, Luna knew. So did the Doctor.

"Except that rocket's not going to fly, is it?" the Doctor asked softly. He walked over by Yana, the others moving back. "You don't just need the impact patters harmonized. The entire footprint mechanism isn't working. You're stuck on this planet, and you haven't told them yet. They don't know, that lot out there, do they? The still think they're going to fly."

"It's better to let them live in hope," Yana told him quietly. The Doctor grinned faintly.

"Quite right, too. And, though this new science is well beyond me, a boost reversal circuit, in any time frame, must be a circuit which reverses the boost. So, I wonder… what would happen if I did this?" He pulled out the sonic screwdriver, picked up a circuit, put them together, and viola.

"Chan - it's working -tho!"

Yana gaped in amazement. "How did you do that?"

"Oh, while we've been chatting away I forgot to tell you - I'm brilliant."

"Modest too," Luna whispered conversationally to Jack. He laughed.

"I suppose some things never change."

The Doctor took charge of the lab. He sent Martha and Chantho to find another circuit board or two. He and Yana got to work fixing a large board in the middle of the lab that was made of food, string, and staples. Jack and Luna went to work taking down measurements and regulating energy flow patterns at one of the monitors.

"So…" Jack said.

"Yes?" Luna asked, fiddling with a knob.

"Five years?"

"Mhm."

"Tell me?" Luna looked at him, and he shrugged. "I'm interested. Don't think anyone has managed to worm his way into his hearts like you. 'Cept Rose, maybe. He's proud of everything you do, you can see it in his face."

"His eyes, maybe," Luna nodded. "You can always see what he's thinking in his eyes."

"Yeah," Jack nodded. "How did you meet?"

"Running. Well, we were running, Will and I. Then we ended up in the TARDIS, the Doctor looked in my mind, and we traveled together."

"Just like that?"

"There was a fob watch. A butterfly escaping her cocoon. A gift and a tether and a farewell to a brother. Ooh, that rhymed. But, well… generally yes."

"Do you always talk like that?"

"Like what?"

"Sort of… dreamy. Half-aware. Crazy sounding."

"Sometimes. There are a lot of things in my head. It's hard to keep track of them all."

"Oh."

"She's back!" Luna exclaimed suddenly, pointing at the monitor. "Dad!"

The Doctor turned over towards her, a smile splitting his face as he saw what was flickering on the monitor. The TARDIS. "Now we can get the rest of this working."

Luna looked to Yana suddenly as the gold around him flared up again, shifting. This time she could tell what the trigger was by the way he was staring at the TARDIS. The drums rose up again, beating incessantly. Luna was gripped by the feeling that there was something wrong with him. Something there that should be, or something hiding that they needed to watch out for. It was important, very important. She didn't know why, or know what it was, but it was _something_ and it needed to be watched.

* * *

Luna paced the room, more to give herself something to do more than in agitation. But she was agitated, even if it didn't show in her strides back and forth. If agitated was the right word. On edge, maybe. Not quite as flustered as agitated, but certainly perturbed. Something was building up on the edge of her mind. A warning, maybe, something big.

Jack and the Doctor were gone. Down below the rocket, fixing the couplings in a room flooded with stet radiation. Martha was talking quietly with Chantho, watching the Doctor, listening to him. Yana was staring at the TARDIS, as if he knew it, or knew he _should_ know it. The drums were now going on full time, but Luna could block them out. Nothing bad was actually happening, and for some reason that bothered Luna.

Then Yana pulled out a watch.

A fob watch.

Just like her fob watch.

And it all made sense.

"Martha?" Luna called to their companion. Martha looked up.

"Yeah?"

"Can you go check on Dad for me? See if he needs anything?"

"Um, sure? Why?"

Luna briefly nodded to Yana, whose back was still to them. Martha looked puzzled for a moment, then caught sight of the watch he was turning over in his hands.

'Is that…?' Martha mouthed. Luna nodded, making a shooing motion.

"Right, yeah. I'll go check on him. See if they need some help with the stabilizers or… something," she finished lamely. She fled the room, practically racing down to the very bottom of the Silo, down to where the Doctor was.

Mere meters away, Luna felt Yana's gold signature shift again as he fiddled with the watch. Chantho seemed to notice his distress; she moved over to him, laying a hand on his shoulder. He barely noticed, too engrossed by the voice Luna knew must be coming from the watch.

"Chan - Yana, won't you please rest - tho?"

Yana held the watch up in front of him, listening to the Time Lord inside. Because that was what it was, his Time Lord consciousness. Yana wasn't human, wasn't just an exceptionally smart professor at the end of the universe. He was a Time Lord, a genius from an alien race trapped in a human body without memory of his original self. Except now he could see the watch, could see the conscious inside.

Could open it.

A click, that's all it was, the faint click of a latch releasing. Luna watched, half-remembering with him that feeling of rebirth. Gold, in the physical plane, surrounded him. It was paralleled in Time too. In the gold he suddenly lit up, like a pyre catching fire. Like the Doctor, sort of, but different too. Violence on the surface. A never-ending drumbeat. A true spark of insanity. And a name, a name to go with this new, reborn Time Lord. The Master.

Poor Chantho had no idea. "Chan - Professor Yana - tho?"

The Master turned to the board he had been working on not that long ago and threw a switch, locking the Doctor, Martha, and Jack out of the lab. At the same time he released the lock on the outside gate, letting the Futurekind in.

"Chan - you must stop - tho!" Luna was silent, uncertain and overwhelmed. The Master, a swirling vortex of power and madness and hate that was hard to make sense of. It was like being run down by… something.

"Chan - Professor, I'm so sorry… I must stop you - tho. Chan - you're destroying all our work - tho!" She was holding a gun, pointing it shakily at the Master.

"Now I can say I was provoked," the Master hissed, holding out a flashing cable. "Chantho… loyal Chantho…" His voice dripped with malevolence. "Did you never think, in all those years of standing beside me, to ask about the watch? Did you never, not _ever_, think you could set me free?"

"Chan - I'm sorry - tho. Chan - I'm so sorry-"

"Shut up. You, with your 'chan' and your 'tho' driving me insane. Enough."

"Chan - Professor-"

"That's _not _my name! Professor Yana was an invention. So perfect a disguise… that even I forgot who I am."

"Don't," Luna whispered, but the Master payed her no attention.

Chantho was backing away, terrified. Yet she couldn't help herself. "Chan - who are you - tho?"

"I am… the Master." He thrust his cable forward, like a rapier, sending waves of electricity crashing through Chantho's body, easily frying her where she stood.

"You didn't have to do that," Luna told him as Chantho lay still and smoking on the ground. "She couldn't have shot you."

"The little Time Lady speaks," the Master mocked. "Forget her. She wasn't important."

"Everyone's important in some way or another."

"Oh, he's indoctrinated you, hasn't he?" the Master scowled. He wasn't angry at her though.

Banging on the door interrupted him. The Doctor was back, trying to get in. Shouting for the Professor.

"Let them in," Luna requested calmly.

"Come with me," the Master countered just as calmly.

"What?"

"You heard me."

"You killed the woman who worked by your side for seventeen years," she reminded him. "Why would I want to come with you?"

"She was useless. A simpering tagalong. You're not."

"What am I?"

"You're our legacy. The Child of Time, the last of the Time Lords. There's no one after you. Come with me."

"No." She was almost apologetic.

"No?"

"I can't go with you. I'm not supposed to."

"How can you know that?" the Master demanded.

"My gift, Kosechi. I see Time."

"_Don't_ call me that."

"I'm sorry. But I can't come with you."

He was quiet for a moment before responding. Judging her. "I'm going to see you again, child," he promised. The epithet wasn't an insult but instead almost soft, almost kind. Similarly, the promise wasn't a threat but only a promise. Luna nodded.

"I know. But not right now. Right now you're going to die."

"What?"

That was the last thing he got out before Chantho, who was not quite dead, managed to fire the gun that she had been holding, hitting the Master. At the same time the door burst open and Martha, Jack, and the Doctor rushed in. Jack turned back to push the door closed against the horde of Futurekind pressing against it. Martha moved to check on Chantho, then turned to help Jack when she discovered the insectoid was dead. The Doctor stepped forward to the Master, but the injured Time Lord backed into the TARDIS, locking it behind him, leaving the Doctor to shout to him through the wooden door. Luna, no longer talking to him, hurried to help Jack and Martha.

"Doctor!" Jack called. The Doctor was busy pounding at the TARDIS, yelling, unable to get in. Through the windows the glow of regeneration filled he ship, and the Doctor moved back, silenced. Then the Master's voice rang out, different. He spent a moment playing with it before returning to the matter at hand.

"Doctor! Hello! Why don't we stop and have a nice little chat while I tell you all my plans and you can work out a way to stop me? I _don't _think!"

"Hang on… I know that voice," Martha said.

"I'm asking you, stop. Just stop," the Doctor shouted back, ignoring the three behind him, ignoring the creatures pushing at the door. "Just think!"

"Use my name," the Master ordered.

"Master…" The Doctor sighed. "I'm sorry."

"Tough!" the Master shouted back. The Doctor held out his sonic, doing something to the TARDIS. The Master spit out a word that neither Martha nor Jack understood but both the Doctor and Luna winced. "No you don't!" he shouted in English. His voice suddenly became playful, friendly, fake. "So… End of the universe. Have fun. Bye bye!"

"Stop him!" Martha yelled. It was no use though, the TARDIS was dematerializing, leaving them behind. The Doctor took a moment longer to stare at the spot where it had been, then turned back to the three pressing against the door.

"Give me your wrist," he ordered Jack.

"I'm kinda busy!" the Captain barked. The Doctor grabbed his wrist with the vortex manipulator on it, whirring his sonic.

"Hold still," the Doctor ordered.

"It's broken, it hasn't worked for years," Jack countered.

"That's because you haven't had me. Everyone hold on," he ordered, placing his hand on top of the wrist band. Martha and Luna managed to contort themselves enough to lay a hand on the leather strap. Then the Doctor punched something in and they were gone, letting the Futurekind stream into the now empty, beaten up lab.

* * *

Reviews are, as always, welcome.


	20. Chapter 20

Disclaimer: I own neither Harry Potter nor Doctor Who.

* * *

Traveling via vortex manipulator was never nice, but it got the job done. Moments (relatively) after being trapped by the Futurekind in Professor Yana's lab, TARDIS-less and abandoned, the Doctor, Martha, Luna, and Jack appeared groaning in a London alley courtesy of Jack's space hopper. The wall was immediately employed in keeping them upright.

"Oh, I'd forgotten how uncomfortable that was," the Doctor groaned. "Long distances are the worst." Jack grunted in agreement, cracking his neck and pushing himself off the wall.

Luna grumbled with them, but wasn't really paying attention. She could sense something was wrong. Strange, new. An uncovered threat that had come out of hiding to ambush them. Something that hadn't been there before, but had. She didn't like it.

The alley led out onto a pedestrian-only road furnished with shops. No one was doing any shopping though - they were instead gathered around a large screen, waiting for something. Luna ignored them, looking around instead, noting the differences from mere days ago. When had all the pro-Saxon posters appeared? Better question – who was Saxon?

No, wait, there was another question, a more important question - was that her _own_ face, staring her down from the posters on the walls?

She spun around, a full 360 degrees. Yes, she was looking at herself, her face staring out at her from under large, blocky letters - 'HAVE YOU SEEN THIS GIRL?'

What?

She was curious. She was a little panicked. She had no idea what was going on and she didn't like it. But she couldn't resist the temptation to go look at it. Martha, Jack, and her dad were all watching the TV, paying no attention to what was going around them. She dimly felt her dad's horror at something, but she was too busy with her own problem to process it immediately. Instead she moved away from them, keeping her head down and hurrying towards a large poster.

'HAVE YOU SEEN THIS GIRL?' It was strange to her own face staring down at her, her own silver eyes following her as she approached. It wasn't actually a photograph, she realized, but a painting, a drawing done by a real person. When had that happened? It obviously wasn't her at a different point in her personal time stream - it was her from right now. She turned to the print under the picture and recoiled in surprise.

'Missing,' it read. 'Luna Saxon.'

_What?_ And then, _Oh._

'Daughter of Harold and Lucy Saxon. Disappeared five years ago. Presumed kidnapped by "the Doctor." May be going by the name "Luna Smith." DOB: 7/3/95. Height: 4'9." Hair: blonde. Eyes: grey. Current age: 12. If you have any information, please contact the police. Thank you.' Underneath someone had penned in 'Help the Prime Minister find his daughter!'

_Well then._

Luna stared at the poster. The poster stared back at her. She didn't need to wonder who had set that up, she knew. Idly she wondered if she should be disturbed by it, but decided she was mostly just confused. And slightly annoyed, because it would make it that much harder to travel around.

She didn't want to see her dad's reaction either. She doubted he would approve. Of the posters, or of her lack of worry. As for herself, once she got over the fact that the Master had put out a call to the world, branding her as _his_ daughter, she was intrigued. For some reason she couldn't place she wasn't scared about it. Maybe because she understood he didn't want to harm her. It would have been nice if he hadn't included the claim as her father - that was the Doctor and would always be the Doctor, or Daddy when he had been alive. Still, she understood his reasoning.

"Luna?" Jack was calling from somewhere behind her, searching. She waved a hand over her shoulder, beckoning.

"I think this is something you need to see," she called back. One by one she felt Jack, then Martha, then Dad gather behind her. All three stilled.

"Doctor! You never told me you were a kidnapper," Jack teased. The Doctor didn't find it as funny.

"We need to go," he ordered tersely. "Before anyone sees us."

Martha nodded. "My flat. We can stay there."

The Doctor nodded, eyes flickering dangerously for a moment, though not directed at those around him. The Master would _not_ get away with doing anything to Luna. The Doctor would not let him.

Luna felt her father's determination and it comforted her. she was glad to know that despite her interest in the Master, he was there to protect her. Protect her from anything that she couldn't protect herself from. Like always.

* * *

Martha's flat was fairly nice, if a bit small. Cleaner than the last time Luna had seen it. Martha unlocked the door, ushering them in.

"Here we are. Home."

The Doctor made a beeline for the laptop sitting on a table while Jack pulled out his phone, dialing. He put it up to his ear for a moment, then hung up.

"Who was that?" Luna asked.

"Just some friends of mine, but there's no reply…" He trailed off, looking over the Doctor's shoulder at the page opened on the computer screen and shook his head. "It's no use, he's been around for ages."

"It's so weird though," Martha added, sitting on the arm of the couch. "It's only a day after the election. Four days after I first met you."

"And we've been all around the universe," Luna nodded.

"He's been here the whole time," the Doctor scowled.

"You gonna tell us who he is?" Martha retorted.

"He's a Time Lord."

"What about the rest of it?" she pressed.

"That's all you need to know." Luna frowned at his tense reply but stayed silent, instead watching the ads playing on repeat on the computer. Her dad was scowling at them, as if it were McFly's fault that the Master had taken over Britain.

"Former Prime Minister of Defense," Jack said, almost briefing them. "His first big assignment was shooting down the Racnoss last Christmas."

"He goes back ages," Martha picked up, and maybe trying to prove to herself that Harold Saxon was a real man worth voting for and not the megalomanic Time Lord who had left them stranded at the end of the universe. "He's famous; everyone knows about him. Look." She pointed at the computer screen where pictures of his 'life' were now flashing past in a slideshow. "Cambridge University, Rugby, wrote a novel, got married, daughter was kidnapped, everything. He's got a whole life. He can't have made all that stuff up."

"He hasn't got a daughter," Luna muttered. Jack moved to sit by her.

"We know," he said. "We won't let him hurt you."

Luna nodded. She was… not comforted exactly - that would require that she needed comforting in the first place - but thankful. First because of the promise of protection, and second because of the promise itself. Not 'we won't let him take you' or 'we won't let him near you' but 'we won't let him _hurt_ you,' as if Jack knew the strange interest Luna had in the Master and vice versa. There was no promise or threat of keeping her encased and tucked away but instead a promise to keep her safe while she made her own choices. Luna smiled at him.

"Thanks, Jack," she said. He smiled for a moment, then it slipped away.

"He has got a TARDIS though…" the immortal mused. "Maybe he's been living here for decades."

"No," the Doctor replied shortly. Jack looked up at him, confused.

"Why not? Worked for me."

"Dad locked the TARDIS controls," Luna answered for him. "With his sonic."

"And you know that how?"

"I watched him do it."

Jack looked at her. He had been watching too, and all he had seen was the Time Lord point his screwdriver at the large blue wooden box. But then, perhaps growing up with the Doctor meant that she could tell what he was doing with it. Maybe.

The Doctor leaned back in his chair, giving up on staring down the computer to look at them. "What Luna said. He can only travel between 100 trillion and the last place the TARDIS landed. Which is right here, right now."

"Technically it was Cardiff," Martha pointed out. "Give him a little leeway?"

"Weeell… Eighteen months," the Doctor allowed. "But still. How could he have managed all this? He was always sort of… hypnotic, but this is on a massive scale."

"I was gonna vote for him," Martha responded. The Doctor looked at her quickly.

"Why?"

"It was before I even met you. I liked him."

"Me too," Jack offered.

"What's his policy?" the Doctor demanded. "What did he stand for?"

"I dunno," Martha said. Her hands were idly tapping, and both the Doctor and Luna noticed it immediately. One-two-three-four. One-two-three-four. Very distinctive. "He always sounded… good. Like you could trust him. He spoke about… I can't remember exactly, but it was good. Just the sound of his voice…"

"What are you doing?" the Doctor interrupted abruptly. Martha looked startled.

"What?"

"That! Your hands, that tapping. What are you doing?"

"He means the beat. Ba-da-da-da. Ba-da-da-da," Luna demonstrated.

"I dunno. It's nothing, I just-" She was freaked out by their intensity. "I dunno!"

Her frantic attempt to placate them was interrupted by a scrolling banner on the computer - 'Saxon broadcast all channels'. The Doctor stood up and turned on the TV then settled back on the couch.

The Master was sitting in the Cabinet Room, smiling at them with a kind, grandfatherly smile that instantly made three out of the four sitting in the flat on edge and distrustful and all four worried to some degree.

"Britain," he said. Then he repeated it for good measure. Twice. "Britain, Britain. What extraordinary times we've had. Just a few years ago this world was so small. Then they came, out of the unknown, falling from the skies. You've seen it happen - Big Ben destroyed, a spaceship over London. All those ghosts and metal men. The Christmas star that came to kill. Time and time again the government told you nothing. Well not me. Not Harold Saxon. Because my purpose here today is to tell you this, citizens of Great Britain - I have been contacted. A message, for humanity, from beyond the stars." He nodded to someone off camera, and another clip was played, a small round metallic ball speaking to the stunned viewers.

"People of Earth, we come in peace." It's voice was female, but for all intents and purposes it looked like a silver globe, the size of a football, decorated with black patterns and floating in midair. "We bring great gifts. We bring technology and wisdom and protection. All we ask in return is your friendship."

Then Saxon was back, making an 'aw-look-at-da-cute-wittle-alien' face that was no less unsettling than his grandfatherly smile. "Sweet. And this species has identified itself. They're called the Toclafane."

"What?" the Doctor burst out. Luna started similarly. They were a story her dad had told her, the Time Lord version of the bogeyman. They didn't exist.

"And tomorrow morning they will appear," Saxon continued as if nothing were out of the ordinary. Well, as far as the humans knew, nothing was. Except maybe for the existence of aliens. "Not in secret, but to all of you. Diplomatic relations with a new species will begin. Tomorrow we take our place in the universe. Ever man, woman, and child. Every teacher and chemist and writer. Every… oh, I don't know… medical student?"

There was no doubt that was directed at them. The Doctor whipped around to stare at Martha, then jumped up to check behind the TV. There was a bomb there, taped to the back of the television, counting down steadily.

"Out!" he ordered. There was a mad rush out the door, the Doctor pausing just long enough to grab Martha's laptop and his coat. Then they were out in the street, ducking as the windows in front of the flat exploded outwards above them.

"Well," Luna panted. "Everyone okay?"

"Fine, yeah," Jack nodded.

"Martha?" The medical student was dialing her phone, impatient.

"What are you doing?" the Doctor demanded.

"He knows about me, what about my family?" Martha asked.

"Don't tell them anything," he ordered.

"I'll do what I like!"

The Doctor gave a strangled grumble and turned away. "It's what they want," he told Luna uselessly. The girl nodded.

"I know. But they're her family. I'd do the same thing."

That seemed to calm him down. He put a hand on her shoulder. "Are you okay?"

Luna didn't need to ask for him to clarify - she knew he was talking about the Master. "Yes. I think so."

"You think?"

"I'm not scared of him," she promised. "Just… intrigued, I think. Curious." She paused and smiled. "Like I feel around you. Except stronger. Fresher, maybe." It was the best way she could explain it.

"I'm not sure how I feel about being compared to him."

"You were best friends once," Luna reminded him. "And wouldn't hurt me. Like you."

"How do you know that?"

"He didn't when he could. He asked. He's just as fascinated."

"I'd really rather you stayed away from him," the Doctor half-asked.

"I know." The Doctor didn't respond to that. Luna didn't expect him to - both had their own views on the issue and no wish to budge.

Martha suddenly snapped her phone shut, looking determined. "I've gotta help them."

"That's exactly what they want!" The Doctor turned back to her, going from introspective to intense in a second. "It's a trap!"

"I don't care," she shouted back.

The Doctor glared a moment longer, then gave up and got in the car. Jack and Luna followed him, and Martha jumped in the driver's seat, sending the motor roaring before anyone had their seat belts on. Jack and Luna shared a look and buckled up as the young woman took off.

"Careful!" Luna squeaked. Martha ignored her, and instead pressed the gas pedal further into the floorboard than it already was. Luna settled for pressing herself into the seat and shutting her eyes, making herself comfortable - as comfortable as she could be in a car that was peeling around corners and probably breaking over sixteen traffic laws while at it, anyways.

Suddenly, they were at Martha's mum's house. As was a police van, from inside which Martha's father was shouting at the neighbors. In the front yard, Martha's mother was being forced into the van as well. A number of police in black were standing nearby, keeping the neighbors watching from their windows and not the street. A woman stood in the center of it all, perfectly calm and collected, as if she oversaw that everyday.

"Reverse," Luna ordered, knowing what was coming next. A moment later the the police took aim in front of them, pointing at the car.

"Martha, reverse," Luna said again. The police opened fire. That was all the incentive Martha needed. The Doctor shouting over the crunch of breaking glass spurred her into action, and they were away almost as quickly as they had come.

The atmosphere in the car was much more tense, if that was possible. Martha was glowering at the road in front of her, twisting every once in a while to include the Doctor in her glare. "This is all your fault," she muttered. The Doctor didn't reply. "And this is the only place we can go. Planet Earth." Sarcasm dripped from her words

"Martha, listen to me," Jack interrupted calmly. "Do as I say. We've gotta ditch this car. Pull over." Martha didn't respond. "Right now!" Jack barked in a tone that would not allow argument of any sort. Martha ditched the car, leaving under a bridge as its occupants walked out into the light rain.

Martha lagged behind, frantically calling her brother, trying to get him to run. Luna listened with half an ear, knowing it was probably useless. The entire Jones family was being hunted down as a warning and a failsafe - they were an example of what happened to those in contact with the Doctor as well as a way of keeping Martha in check. Undoubtably the message had got through - stay away from the Doctor, he gets people killed. Then the conversation behind her ended and Martha was shrieking at the phone.

"You let them go, Saxon! D'you hear me? Let them go!"

The Doctor was there instantly, plucking the phone out of Martha's hand. He didn't bother with a greeting.

"I'm here." He stepped away from the others, giving himself some privacy, moving out into the continuous drizzle. On the other end of the line there was the sound of fumbling. Then the Master.

"Doctor," the other Time Lord whispered.

"Master."

"I like it when you use my name."

The Doctor ignored the implication in the tone of the comment. "You chose it. Psychiatrist's field day."

"As you chose yours. The man who makes people better. How sanctimonious is that?" It was an old argument, and he didn't feel the need to comment.

"So…" He searched around for something else to discuss. "Prime Minister."

"I know. It's good, isn't it?" He sounded like a kid talking about his new bike, not a psychotic maniac who had total control of Great Britain. Some things never changed.

"Who are those creatures?" he asked instead. "'Cos there's no such thing as the Toclafane, they're made up."

"Do you remember all those fairy tales about the Toclafane when we were kids? Back home." How long ago had that been? Too long. Besides, that home was gone now. "Where is it, Doctor?"

Did he have to ask? …Probably, yes. "Gone."

"How can Gallifrey be _gone_?"

He had asked himself the same thing. He still didn't have an answer. Or maybe he just didn't want to answer. It was easy to get the two mixed up sometimes. "It burnt."

"And the Time Lords?"

"Dead." But he had to explain, just a little more. "And the Daleks, more or less… What happened to you?"

There was a slight hesitation there, and the Doctor was glad. He wasn't the only one who avoided it, then. Not that there was really anyone else _to_ avoid it, but for now it made him feel a little less abandoned, a little less alone. Even if it was the Master. Like Luna had said - they were friends once.

"The Time Lords only resurrected me because they knew I'd make the perfect warrior for a Time War. I was there when the Dalek Emperor took control of the Cruciform." The Doctor shuddered. "I saw it." _So did I._ "I ran. I ran so far. Made myself human so they would never find me because…I was so scared."

What was there to say to that? He knew, he knew how the Master felt. He had felt it too. There was a shared suffering there, something that hurt and oh how he had missed it. To be able to see that fear in someone besides himself. To see the marks that had been left.

"I know."

"All of them?" Oh, the Doctor knew where he was going with that. "But now you, which must mean…"

"I was the only one who could end it," he answered. "And I tried, I did, I tried everything." Who was he trying to convince, he wondered idly.

"What did that feel like, though? Two almighty civilizations burning. Oh, tell me, how did it feel?" His voice was soft, sibilant. Creeping. Condemning.

"Stop it."

"You must have been like God."

"I've been alone ever since." He had to understand, understand how horrible it had been. How horrible it still was. "But not anymore, don't you see? All we've got is each other."

"What about your lovely little girl? Luna, isn't it?" There was a pregnant pause, a beat. "What did you think of the pictures?"

The Doctor was on the defensive at once. He knew Luna was interested in the Master, but he didn't like it. Didn't like it _at all_, and he was fighting every single fatherly instinct he had in not sending her off to hide away while he dealt with the Master. Although, now that he thought about it… No, later. Stay on task. "What do you want with her?"

"Well…" the Master drawled, suggestive. "She _is_ the last female Time Lord…"

The Doctor's response was brutal and instantaneous. "Stay away from her," the Time Lord snarled. His eyes were flashing, fire burning towards the direction the Master was sitting, sitting in his office, sitting safe. But not for long, not if he dared to lay a finger on Luna. Never. "Do you hear me? You stay _away_ from her." Each word dripped with power, with promise.

"Relax. Even I wouldn't," the Master responded nonchalantly. The Doctor could hear a tremble in his voice though, the kind one could only catch if they had know someone for centuries. The Master was afraid of him. He smiled mirthlessly. When it came to Luna… he should be. "I dread to think of what you'll do to her boyfriends when she starts dating." The joke was forced, though, and fell flat. The Master sighed suddenly. "I swear, Doctor, I wouldn't hurt her. Do you realize how precious she is?"

"What, because she's a path to power?" the Doctor asked, a dangerous note still present in his voice.

"Because she's the last. She's our legacy. Not me, not you – Luna. She will become so much more than either of us, because she will grow up with that knowledge that she is the last of her kind, more so than you or me. Oh, we've seen the War, yes. But Luna… Luna is what comes after. Whoever can claim to be the teacher to that, the father… they're the father of what comes after her, the 'pater primo'. And, well-" he cut himself off suddenly, and his side of the line when quiet. The Doctor got the distinct feeling he'd said more than he wanted to, and was cutting himself off before anything else came out. The Doctor let him, surprising himself, and moved on to a different subject.

"You could stop this right now. We could leave this planet, could fight across the constellations if that's what you want. But not on Earth." Not on my home. Not on Luna's home.

"Too late." He sounded almost regretful. "It's the drumming… The never ending drums. I though they'd go away, but they never go, never." His tone became madder, wilder, more dangerous. "Listen, listen. Here come the drums."

"What are you doing?" Across from him a homeless man began tapping, the same rhythm he'd heard before, the rhythm pounding away inside the Master's head. One-two-three-four. Da-da-da-da.

"Ooh, you're on telly!" He was playful suddenly, overriding the Doctor's attempt to get a word in. "No, really look, you and your little band. Which, by the way, is ticking every demographic box. Congratulations on that. Oh, there you are!"

Indeed, the Doctor could see his face flashing up on the screen though the back window they were standing next to, along with Jack's and Martha's. A moment later Luna's picture appeared as well, the word 'missing' in bold type underneath.

"You're public enemies one, two, and three," the Master continued, gleeful. "Oh, and please tell handsome Jack that I've sent his little gang on a wild goose chase in the Himalayas, so they're - what's that phrase? - out of pocket. Off you go now. Why don't you start by turning to the right?"

The Doctor turned as Luna, Martha, and Jack joined him. There was a small camera tracking them, but as soon as he saw it it was gone in a shower of sparks and Luna was tucking her wand back into her pocket. The Master tisked on the phone.

"What a public menace you've raised. She was never that bad before."

"She was never yours before either," the Doctor growled down the phone. He could almost _hear_ the Master's smirk.

"Run, Doctor," he ordered. "Go on, do what you do best. Run."

"He's got control of everything," Jack told him as he lowered the phone slightly. "We've got nowhere to go."

"Dad, we've got to get out of here."

"What do we do?" Martha asked helplessly.

"Run, Doctor," the Master bellowed at him. "Run!"

The Doctor snapped the phone closed. The others were all looking at him. Martha, tired and sad and hopeless. Jack, ready to strike back, to protect the Earth with guns blazing, so long as he gave the okay. Luna, small and strong, trusting and curious, both unaware of and completely understanding the danger the Master posed. All of them, waiting for him to make it better. Didn't they know he couldn't fix everything? That this was too big? That he had no choice here?

"We run."

* * *

_Drip. Drip. Drip. Pause. Drip. Drip. Drip. Pause. Drip. Drip. Drip. Pause._

A rat scurried though the damp streets of London, keeping to the alleys, the backways, the hidden places. It wasn't your normal kind of rat though.

_Drip. Drip. Drip. Pause._

This rat was a girl, a girl who couldn't have been older than twelve. Dirty blonde hair hung over her face, hiding it from view. You would've had to notice her first though, which was impossible to do - your eyes would just slide right off her, like she wasn't even there.

_Drip. Drip. Drip. Pause_.

If you had been able to see her you might have seen her slip into the alley that ran behind a cheap fast food place. You might have seen her duck in for a few moments, then duck out again holding a plastic bag in one hand and a few pound notes in another. But you couldn't see her, so you didn't see that.

_Drip. Drip. Drip. Pause. Drip. Drip. Drip. Pause._

Pretend you could see her. Pretend you could watch her melt into the shadows, back into the alleys that stank of piss and garbage. Watch her navigate them expertly, as if they were her home. Perhaps they are, you could wonder to yourself.

_Drip. Drip. Drip. Pause. _

You might have seen her meet a group of boys just as skinny as she was but twice as menacing. You could watch as she stood there calmly, not worried at all. Watch them talk, though you wouldn't hear what they said. You could watch as she gestured to something, then greased their hands with the few pounds from the shop. You could have seen them let her pass by.

_Drip. Drip. Drip. Pause. Drip. Drip. Drip. Pause._

If you could see her, you might see her continue through the alleys, the backways, the hidden places. You might see her pause, suddenly, and look around, sensing you perhaps. You may have caught a glimpse of her face as she turned, and maybe would have gasped in surprise when you realized it was the Prime Minister's kidnapped daughter. You might have started when she sprung off suddenly, racing away with the grace of a natural runner, and maybe something not quite human.

_Drip. Drip. Drip. Pause._

But you didn't. You were never able to see her. You never saw her in the shop, or with the boys in the alley, or slipping through shadows, or racing like a gazelle. You never saw Luna Etoile.

_Drip._

* * *

The dripping both annoyed soothed Martha. It was incessant, and yet somehow had a calming beat. Three drips, then pause. Three, pause. She had gone looking for the source, but the warehouse was large and finding one leak was… well, not impossible, just rather difficult. Still, it took her mind off her family. Her family that the Master had just kidnapped. Her family that was in jail for no reason. It made her want to hit someone. Which was something, because she was generally a peaceful, helpful person. Always putting other people before herself, always trying to help. She prided herself in her selflessness.

Still. She wouldn't have given up traveling with the Doctor for anything, even if it did end up with her family hidden away at some government facility. They could save them, that's what the Doctor did. Even when she griped about being stuck somewhere, dealing with too much, even when she was afraid and thought she was going to die, she loved it. She trusted the Doctor, he could help. Even if he didn't know it already. Together with Luna the two could solve anything.

Speaking of Luna, hadn't she been gone for a while now? The girl had gone out to pick up some food or something - she had missed the argument. Not that it really qualified as an argument. The Doctor had made his displeasure known, Luna had nodded in agreement, promised him something quietly, put something around her neck, and taken off. That had been, oh… an hour ago? An hour since she had gone looking for the source of that dripping. There had been no other sound except the wind whistling through the dark warehouse and the Doctor typing away on her laptop. Drip. Drip. Drip.

"I have food." The call came from nowhere, startling everyone. Martha turned around, watching as Luna walked up, holding a bag of chips. They smelled delicious. She abandoned her search for the leak - though really she had done that at least thirty minutes ago - and joined Jack, Luna, and the Doctor in the middle of the warehouse.

"Thanks, Luna," the Doctor said warmly.

"Welcome," the girl replied. "Eat them while they're warm."

There was more silence, except this time it was a friendly silence, a comforted silence. Martha liked the silence. Between the munching of the chips she noticed that the dripping had stopped.

When everyone was finished, she turned to the Doctor. For some reason it felt okay to talk, now that Luna was back. "So…" she started. He looked to her, and she continued. "Who exactly is the Master? A colleague or something?"

"A friend, at first," the Doctor replied honestly.

"Then how'd he end up like that?" Jack asked. "The legends of Gallifrey make it sound so… perfect."

"Perfect to look at, maybe," the Doctor agreed, looking wistful. "It was beautiful. They called it the Shining World of the Seven Systems. On the Continent of Wild Endeavour, in the Mountains of Solace and Solitude… There stood the Citadel of the Time Lords. The oldest and most mighty race in the universe, looking down on the galaxies below, sworn never to interfere, only to watch." He painted the picture for them. Martha listened, captivated, seeing it form in her mind's eye, a red and orange world of wild, immortal beauty. She loved catching those glimpses into the Doctor's history, into his world and his people. "Children of Gallifrey were taken from their families at the age of eight to enter the Academy," the Doctor continued, looking at Luna while he spoke. "Some say that's when it all began, when he was a child… They say that's when he saw eternity. As a novice, he was taken for initiation to stare through the Untempered Schism. It's a gap, a hole in the fabric of reality; you can see all of time and space, the time stand there, eight years old, staring at the raw power. Just a child. Some would be inspired. Some would run away. And some would go mad." He finished suddenly, returning to the here and now. Martha gazed at him in mixed awe, compassion and plain academic interest. And a bit of amusement - he really did have a bit of a gob, but when he put it to work… well, who could resist the pictures he painted?

"What did you do?" she asked, wanting to know more. That was something the Doctor had cultivated in her, a ravenous curiosity. The Doctor popped the last chip in his mouth.

"The ones that ran away," he replied as if it were obvious. "I never stopped."

Jack's vortex manipulator suddenly beeped. Jack looked down at it, frowning. "Encrypted channel with files attached. I don't recognize it."

"Patch it through to the laptop," the Doctor offered. Jack looked sheepish.

"Um… Since we're telling stories… there's something I haven't told you."

The file appeared on the laptop screen. The Doctor looked betrayed, staring up a Jack.

"You work for Torchwood," he accused coldly. "Everything Torchwood did, and you're part of it?"

"I swear to you, it's different. There's only half a dozen of us now. I rebuilt it after the old regime was destroyed at Canary Wharf; I rebuilt it for you, changed it in your honor." He was asking the Doctor to believe him, but the Doctor only glared at Jack for a moment longer before opening the file. Luna frowned as well; though she had never encountered the old regime her dad had told her about it and what they had done. Though, all things considered, her father had healed remarkably well and no longer was mourning Rose. Her memories, perhaps, but not the girl herself. Though Luna had always understood that it was the memories he cherished most.

But that wasn't important at the moment. The woman who had sent the file was dead. She left for them a message about the Archangel Network. The Doctor was confused, and his displeasure was replaced by questions and ideas.

"What's the Archangel Network?" he asked them, falling into the-Doctor-is-solving-a-problem mode. The others similarly slipped into factual, logic-guided states.

"It's the mobile phone network," Jack responded. "It's worldwide, fifteen satellites. All the other networks are carried by Archangel."

"Everyone's got it," Martha informed. "Here, look." She offered the Doctor her phone and he accepted it, buzzing over it with the sonic.

"It's in the phones!" he exclaimed. "That's brilliant. Oh, I said he was a hypnotist. Wait, wait, hold on." The sonic changed frequency and then the phone began to beep. Beep-beep-beep-beep. One-two-three-four. "There. Luna, what do you think?"

"That rhythm's everywhere," Luna stated, mulling it over. "It's too weak to be mind control… by a low level hypnotic field, maybe?" The Doctor nodded to her to go on. "It both masks his presence through a sort of distortion ward while at the same time send out a message into the collective unconscious."

"When did you read Jung?"

"Last summer. You lent me the book."

"Oh, right, I remember that…"

Jack coughed. "Doctor, Luna, d'you mind?" They both looked sheepish.

"Sorry," the said together. The Doctor continued. "What Luna said was spot on. And now that we know what he's doing…"

"We can stop it," Luna finished. The Doctor grinned, and the other three grinned back.

"Oh, yes!" he crowed.

* * *

Within half an hour they were standing at an airfield, watching the Master greet President Winters. Moments after the President was whisked away by his armed guards, the Jones family was unloaded from the police van they had been in and moved to a black armored van, struggling and laughing as the Master led them along. Martha growled, ready to go after them, but the Doctor held her back. After a gesture from her husband, the Master's wife entered the car herself, sitting in the front. The Master paused, staring towards them across the empty tarmac. Luna could have sworn he was watching them, at the Doctor, despite the modified perception filters hanging around their necks in the form of their TARDIS keys. The two Time Lords held each other's gazes for a moment longer, then the Master disappeared into the car with his wife and drove off, leaving the four travelers on the wet asphalt. The Doctor gestured for Jack's vortex manipulator.

Jack was on it already, punching in coordinates. "They said _Vailiant_, right? It's a UNIT ship at 28.2N and 10.02E."

"So how do we get on board?" Martha asked.

"It works as a teleport," Luna responded, reaching out a hand to touch the device. The Doctor stopped her.

"No," he told her.

"What?"

"I don't want you to come. Not-" He overrode her protests. "Not because I'm worried about you. Because I don't want you to see anything."

"Dad, I don't want to leave you up there with him."

"And I don't want you up there with him," the Doctor countered. "Please, do this for me."

Luna scowled. "Where would I stay? He'll find me in a heartbeat, he knows we're here."

"I know. I just… I don't want you to go, not now. Whatever's coming this morning, I don't want you to be part of it. You can feel it, can't you? I know you can."

Luna could. She had felt it since the warehouse, since sneaking out into the grimy streets that she knew so well. There was a victory on the horizon, and not Earth's. Something terrible was going to happen, and it was going to happen that morning, on the _Vailiant_ with the Master. She knew why he didn't want her to go.

But she didn't want to give in. Didn't want to agree to leave her dad alone with that man. Yes, he interested her, yes he wouldn't hurt her… but that didn't mean he wouldn't hurt them. How could she go off and hide when her dad would be in danger?

And yet… what could she do?

"Where do you want me to do?" she asked, unable to argue. The Doctor let out a sigh, suddenly less tense, though Luna hadn't even noticed it in the first place. In fact, a small grin actually broke out across his face, despite the turmoil.

"You remember what I've told you about Sarah Jane?"

* * *

When the doorbell rang in the early hours of the morning - more the middle of the night, actually - Luke Smith's first, groggy thought was 'who on Earth would really call this early?' He had been trough plenty of strange, potentially worrisome situations in his uncommonly short life, but the alien threats he and his friends faced had never required a one am wakeup call.

He heard his mum pad past his room on her way to the front door and poked her head out after her.

"Who is it?" he asked. Teenager though he was, he was by no means a normal one and thus waking up in the middle of the night wasn't as difficult as it by all rights should've been.

"I don't know," his mum replied. She was wrapped in a dressing gown, hair mussed from sleep but just as awake as he was.

"It _is_ too early for social calls, isn't it?" he asked. Clyde was always helpful, but every once in a while he wasn't sure about normal human interactions.

"Yes, it is," his mum answered. Then she looked back at him, lips twitching in the beginnings of a smile. "For humans, anyways." She opened the door.

Luke couldn't see past her, but he could tell by the way she suddenly tensed that whatever it was it wasn't good. Or perhaps just unexpected, because a moment later the sharp lines of her body relaxed, and she stepped back. Luke moved all the way out of his room, catching sight of who had surprised her so.

A man was standing the doorway, swathed in brown pinstripes and a large tan coat that looked like some sort of moleskin, or perhaps what had once been a sofa. He wasn't alone though - behind him, standing like sentinels, were a man and a woman. The man was tall with dark hair and wore a RAF greatcoat that went with his 1940s look, but Luke was certain hadn't been issued since World War Two. The woman was dark skinned and dressed more normally for the time in a red jacket and jeans. And standing next to the man, one of his hands resting on her shoulder, was a blonde girl who didn't look any older than twelve. But she was familiar, he had seen her on the television, in the ads, the Saxon girl. Which meant the man had to be…

"Doctor." The Doctor's tight expression relaxed somewhat, and there was definite warmth in his eyes as he responded.

"Sarah. D'you mind if we come in?"

"Of course not," Sarah Jane Smith replied, gesturing them towards the living room in the back. She trailed after them, and Luke followed a moment later. _That_ was the Doctor? The time traveling alien his mum sometimes talked about with a hint of melancholy? That skinny man with porcupine hair and a little girl? Him?

Apparently, because Sarah Jane was serving them tea in the living room. The Doctor sat on the couch, the girl - Luna according to the papers - sitting at his feet while the two others stood together a little further away.

"I'm sorry it's so early," the Doctor was saying, but Sarah Jane waved him off.

"I'm sure you have your reasons. You always do."

"Yes. I have favor to ask of you."

Sarah Jane turned around, catching sight of Luke in the doorway. He paused for a moment, then joined them. "Alright, Doctor. What is it?"

The Doctor, however, was paying more attention to Luke. "Who's this?" he asked. Sarah Jane surprised both a fond smile and a sigh. Oh, yes, that was the Doctor. Nonexistent attention span 98% of the time. Still, she couldn't help but humor him.

"My son, Luke. Luke, this is the Doctor."

"Hello," Luke waved. The Doctor looked between them and opened his mouth to speak. Then closed it and looked between them again.

"That's-" He cut himself off. "Well, I suppose I can't really say anything. Sarah Jane, this is my daughter, Luna. Luna, Sarah Jane Smith. I've told you about her."

"Yes, you have. Hello, Sarah Jane."

Sarah Jane blinked. Then blinked again. Then, "Luna?"

"You know her?" the Doctor asked intently.

"I- yes. We met, oh… about twelve years ago."

"You won't know me. I'll know you." Luna nodded. "I see."

Sarah Jane smiled at that, a warm smile tinged with sadness. "Oh yes you do."

The Doctor almost asked what that was supposed to mean, but stopped himself. He had no wish to know the future. It was always a hassle to sort out, and he could deal with it when it happened.

"Well then," he said instead. "Since you know each other - sort of - would you mind doing me a favor, Sarah?"

"What do you need, Doctor?"

"I need to leave Luna here."

"Why?" It was Luke this time, quiet until now.

"Because it's not safe," the Doctor replied. Martha snorted. "I'm sure you've seen the posters. I don't want her out there."

"What are you going to do?" Sarah Jane asked. The Doctor gave her a look.

"I've got an old acquaintance to find," he replied evasively. "You've met the Master, I believe."

Oh. That's what it was. Sarah Jane nodded mutely. She had only really met him on one occasion, but she had heard about him many a time. If the Doctor was that worried…

_"He never leaves me anywhere. No matter what, he always takes me with him. Unless he's well and truly terrified that something will happen to me and nothing can stop it. And that only happened once, ever. You were there."_

Sarah Jane remembered that conversation very well, and knew without a doubt that this was what Luna had been referring to that night years ago. There was her answer. She would've said yes anyways, though. After her first meeting with Luna… the girl was like a daughter to her, even if she didn't know it yet.

"Of course I'll take care of her, Doctor," Sarah Jane answered. "Luke, would you mind setting up the guest room?"

"We'll help," Martha volunteered, dragging Jack out after Luke. That left the three alone in the living room.

"Thank you, Sarah," the Doctor said, standing.

"It's no problem at all," Sarah Jane replied. The Doctor nodded, and turned to Luna.

"You'll stay here, right?" he asked, staring at her. "Don't come after us."

Luna stared back. She _didn't_ want to stay. She didn't. What if something happened, what if the Master won, what if she never saw them again, what if Sarah Jane and Luke got hurt, what if, what if, what if? Everything was clouded, she couldn't see what was happening. Just the drums. The future held the drums, the beating, unending drums, and a black dawn.

"I don't like it."

"It's important. For me. Do it for me."

"... Fine. I'll do it. But I don't like it."

"I know." The Doctor wrapped her in a hug. "I know," he repeated. "Thank you."

"Je t'aime."

"Je t'aime aussi. Stay safe."

"I will."

They held the hug for a moment longer, and Luna snuggled into his embrace, resting her head on his chest and listening to his heartbeat. She often missed the comfort of their moments together as they became fewer and fewer. When this was over she was going to ask him to start guitar lessons again. Or maybe piano lessons. Or they could have a nice, long discussion about the philosophy of the Heliopaths on Nixgell 6.

But not now.

The Doctor released her, moving on to Sarah Jane. "Thank you," he whispered in her ear as he hugged her as well. "Thank you so much."

"How could I ever say no to you, Doctor?" she asked him as they pulled apart. He smiled down at her, and despite the severity of the situation he undoubtedly be throwing himself in, she smiled back.

"I'll be back as soon as possible. We have to go now, we've only got a few hours."

"Goodbye, Doctor." He gave her one last, brief grin that said, no matter the regeneration, 'I'm about to do something very dangerous and life threatening and, though I said don't follow me, you're going to end up doing just that and probably saving my life.' It was his trademark grin, she was sure, and as worried as it made her she couldn't help but grin back at his retreating figure. She heard him call to his companions, then the door clicking shut behind them. Then it was 1.30 in the morning and she was standing in her sitting room with a girl she would meet a few years from now and a decade ago.

"I won't be staying long." Luna told her with that eerie but somehow natural foreknowledge she possessed. It was far more pronounced now than it had been. "But I will remember this. And I'll see you again, as you remember."

Sarah Jane didn't question it, but knew - as she had as soon as the Doctor had arrived on her doorstep - that things were certainly about to get a lot more complicated.

* * *

Translations:

Luna: I love you.  
Doctor: I love you too.

Reviews are, as always, welcome.


	21. Chapter 21

Disclaimer: I own neither Harry Potter nor Doctor Who.

* * *

The Master was pacing back and forth across the flight deck. He was alone in the room, alone in the night, the fires of the burning world below him lighting his steps as he paced. Paced to the beat of the drums. Pacing and thinking. Thinking in the night, in the dark of the cavernous, empty room, in the flickering reflection of fire and death. Thinking about the Doctor.

And his daughter.

Little Luna. Puzzle Luna. Curious question Luna.

The Master, as a rule, was not big on affection. He did not 'like' things for simply being there. He enjoyed what things could do for him. What questions they could answer. What power they could grant. What boredom they could alleviate. For that reason, he was interested in Luna. Not caring, no. That was the Doctor, weak fool. Simply… curious. And unwilling to harm, though he couldn't for the life of him understand why. Perhaps because she was fragile, and he was afra- no, not afraid. Reluctant. Reluctant to damage her.

It was these thoughts that kept him up, kept him pacing alone in the dark. That, and his biological need for little sleep. And his impatience – men and Toclafane alike had been searching since he had first arisen to his position as Master of Earth a week ago, and still the girl was hiding down there in the wreckage, and the Doctor was worrying like… Well, like a father. It was almost disgusting. Though, if he admitted it, the Master did agree with his worry. Which was also disgusting.

It was pointless to brood about. If the girl got herself killed, oh well. He would have lost an intriguing specimen to study and interact with. And if not, they'd find her eventually. After all, she couldn't hide forever. There was only so much Earth to hide on.

"Sir." It was one of the soldiers who were eternally standing on duty just outside the doors. The Master growled at the interruption.

"What is it?"

"We've found her."

* * *

Luna paced across the attic. Mr. Smith was slumbering away in the wall, turned off after he had almost shut down due to the mass hysteria and panic and destruction plaguing the Earth - even his vastly superior electronic brain couldn't compute it all. Sarah Jane was downstairs making lunch with help from Alan Jackson from across the street. Sitting against the wall and watching her pace were Luke, Luke's best friend Clyde, and his other best friend Maria, Alan's daughter.

"It's not like you can do anything about it," Clyde pointed out unhelpfully. "Sorry, but from everything we've heard…"

"He's right, Luna," Luke nodded. "We haven't got the resources to do anything except wait it out. Mum agrees."

"I know," Luna answered. Her calm, nonchalant tone contrasted sharply with her sharp strides. "I'm just not very good at waiting."

"Yeah, me neither," Clyde agreed. "What are we supposed to do till it's over? Who knows how long it'll take?"

"Fifty-one weeks," Luna answered with eerie precision. "But that's not what I'm waiting for."

"What are you waiting for then?" Maria asked. Luna shrugged.

"I'm waiting to be found."

No one was quite sure how to respond to that. Maria tried anyways. "What makes you think he'll find you?"

"There's only so many places on Earth to hide. I know he'll find me."

"We can protect you."

"Thank you, Clyde, but I don't need you to die. Stay out of his way."

"But… Sarah Jane promised she'd protect you."

"I quite trust Luna to take care of herself." Sarah Jane had returned with lunch - a can of beans and the last of the tea - they were barricaded in after the first Toclafane attack, hiding and trying to stay safe. They were essentially refugees in their own homes. Or perhaps prisoners.

"Mum, she's twelve."

"And has the mental maturity of someone my age. It comes with the alien genome. Stay out of it, Luke. I don't want you getting killed."

There was a sullen pause, and a faint air of guilty relief. Then the doorbell rang. Luna stopped pacing. She turned to face them.

"Clyde, don't do it."

Clyde looked nonplussed. "Don't do what?"

"What you're going to do." She turned suddenly to Luke. "Thank you for letting me steal part of your chemistry kit."

"… I didn't know it was gone."

"I'll return it later."

Sarah Jane understood. "You'll come back and visit?"

"A year from now last week," Luna nodded. "And years ago years from now. And maybe once or twice besides then."

"Try to stay safe?"

Luna smiled at that. "I follow in my father's footsteps, Sarah Jane."

Sarah Jane sighed. "I could have expected that. Goodbye."

"It's not goodbye. Not for either of us."

"Hold on…" Clyde looked between them. "You're saying it's _him_ down there? Coming to get you?"

As if in reply, a call floated up to them. "Luna! Little Luna, don't hide. Come and say hello."

"Yes," Luna answered needlessly.

"No," Clyde argued. "We said we'd protect you from him. He's bloody well destroyed the world. He can't just waltz up here and…" Clyde paused for a moment, trying to find words, then took off down the stairs. Luna closed her eyes.

"I told him not to," she murmured. "I told him not to do it. I'm sorry." Luke looked at her for a second, then tore down the stairs after him, Maria on his heels. Sarah Jane started after them, but a gunshot made her pause, eyes wide.

"Luke…" she whispered.

"Clyde," Luna corrected without emotion. "We should go."

Downstairs Luke and Maria were crouched by their animate, trouble-loving friend. Except, he wasn't animate. He was still, lying on the ground, eyes staring at nothing, red pooling around him. Sarah Jane let out a muffled cry and joined her son and his friend, murmuring too quietly for anyone but them to hear.

"I'm sorry," Luna told them. There was no response. "I'm so sorry." _I told him…_ echoed through her head, but it was pointless to voice. Sarah Jane understood.

"Hello again, child."

"Saxon," Luna nodded. The man was standing in the doorway, flanked by blank-eyed guards, watching the scene in front of him with disdain.

"My name," he reminded her, "is the Master."

"For now," Luna nodded. The Master regarded her with interest. Curious little thing. And rather cute, with her head poking out of a shirt that was about four times too big for her. It was deceptive. He approved.

"We're going now," he told her. She didn't argue. Instead she knelt down next to the old woman and children and dead boy – stupid boy, to think to threaten him – and whispered something to them. Then she stood up and turned back to him.

"I'm ready," she said. The Master placed a hand on her shoulder – not a comforting hand, but a hand with an iron grip – and gently moved her in front of him, so that she was surrounded on all sides, unable to run. She was interesting, she was a puzzle. But he didn't know what sort of puzzle, and until he was certain of how to act, he would treat her like any other prisoner. And he had had lots of practice with prisoners.

"Let's go," he ordered tersely. With the girl in front and the madman behind they moved away from one prison and towards another.

* * *

Luna's first sense of the _Vailiant_ was 'big'. Her second was 'throne/burning/wrong/_scared_.' Everyone scared, scared of the skyship hanging above them, apart from the burning destruction of Earth. It was easy to see, so high above, easy to feel. She was overwhelmed, her calm exterior cracked, because the entire planet was a ball of golden destruction. In the physical world it was fire. In Time, she could see great swaths of life extinguished in one go as the half-living Toclafane swooped down. She stumbled, closing her eyes. It didn't help, still she could sense the fire and death. Her breathing sped up as it washed around her, clouding everything out. She couldn't think straight, it was wrong. Time itself was hurting here. Something was happening that wasn't supposed to be. Time was being altered by something, the Toclafane were wrong, they were- oh. Oh, Rassilon. She could see it; she could _feel_ it. It hurt…

Suddenly, the Master was there, holding her up, ordering her to breath. It wasn't gentle, but it was with a similar sort of worry that her father had when something overwhelmed her. She had never felt anything of this magnitude though. She couldn't breath. Flashes of pain and death to come, seen over and over and over again, always dying, everyone hurting, even her-

"Dad!" He was there, she could feel him. Yes, he was there, hobbling, older than he should have been. Something must have happened; the Master… but that was okay, she could fix it. She knew how, they had discussed healing not long ago, and she could just pull it out of him. Ripping herself out of the Master's hands, she moved over to him, still looking up to him even in his fake age, his terrifying age. Her father was ageless, he couldn't look like that. It was wrong, like the burning of the planet...

"Luna," he said, the word ringing as though from a long ways away, a tunnel. His voice was old, but still his. "Luna, you've got to block it out. Block it, Lunette. Like I taught you, remember?"

Yes, she did, but she couldn't block it, it was too much, and she had to help him first because he was her father and she loved him more than anything else in the world and he was sick right now, he was wrong and she could help. So instead of focusing on blocking everything she reached out to him, physically and mentally along their bond, their underused bond that had formed years ago by a beautiful accident. She reached out and found that well of wrong, artificial age, and pulled at it. Pulled it away, tried to help him. Unable to think straight, shrieks of the ghosts-to-be filling her head, she attempted to pull the age out of the Doctor.

"No!" She didn't know who had shouted, but arms pulled her away from her father. "Breath, child. Breath!" She couldn't help herself, she had to follow the voices orders, there was something there, in the eyes above her, the clear eyes. _They should be mad,_ she though to herself. But they weren't they were clear… Clear and calming and as she built up the walls in her head, blocking out the screams and the future and the drumbeat echoing through her mind she felt her eyes closing, closing, and then- nothing.

The Master leaned back as the girl in his arms fell asleep, breathing even, calmed. His hands ran themselves down his face, pressing over eyes, mouth, rough stubble. Then he turned to the Doctor and glared.

"What the hell was that?"

The other Time Lord was watching the girl with clouded eyes. "A panic attack, I think."

The Master opened his mouth to speak, then closed it again. "She did something to you."

The Doctor met his yes with a mirthless smile. "She tried to heal me."

Incredulity. Then, "Why?"

The Doctor responded with a long, sad look, and the Master glared.

"Why did it start here? Why not at the woman's house?"

"I wouldn't leave her without protection from you. Why do you think it took you so long to find her?"

"What did you do?"

"Blocked off the signal of the world. You took her away from that protection."

A pause. "Idiot."

"You or me?" His tone was laced with amusement.

"Don't blame me for your daughter's stupidity," the Master snapped.

"Don't blame her for your lack of foresight," the Doctor fired back. "You knew it would happen."

"I didn't know she would _damage_ herself."

"That's what you call it? She tried to _fix_ it. She panicked and tried to heal it."

"This is _my_ domain, Doctor. I'm in charge."

"You think she'll let you order her around like that?"

The Master glared. "She's _my_ prize. She'll do what I tell her to."

The Doctor reared up, glaring at the other Time Lord, eyes fiery, voice soft. "My daughter is not a prize. She is not a toy. She is not an experiment. If you hurt her, I will find you, and I will kill you. Do you understand?"

"Shut up," the Master ordered just as harshly. "Don't _you_ understand yet, you meddlesome old fool? I won." The Doctor flinched, backing down. "I'm in charge. Me. And I'll do whatever the hell I want. Understood?" He grinned suddenly, eyes lighting dangerously. Mad. "The whole family's together now, Doctor. We're going to have _lots_ of fun."

* * *

Luna woke in an unfamiliar place. The room was square, clean. One set of walls gleamed with metal, the other were paneled wood. She was lying on a bed, a large bed sitting in the center of the room, the only decoration. It was unmade, just a large white mattress sitting on a simple dark wooden frame, headboard against the wall, door on one side, gleaming hull of the ship on the other. It felt empty.

So did she. The screaming cacophony in her head had disappeared, leaving blessed, empty silence in its wake. Memories resurfacing, she took a shuddering breath. The sheer _amount_ of it all…

"One year," she whispered to the ceiling. "One year."

She sat up slowly, uncertain. And uncomfortable. Well, no, not uncomfortable. Just different. Something felt different. The shirt she was wearing - one of Luke's old ones, worn out and too small for him but much too large for her - was no longer four sizes too big. In fact, the rolled up sleeves needed to be unrolled, they cut off halfway down her forearms. The shorts similarly reached her knees, and with the rope belt they almost fit. How was it that… had the clothing shrunk?

No.

She had grown.

That thought sent her catapulting off the mattress and found her standing in front of the metallic wall. The reflection was blurred, distorted, but clear enough that she could see the obvious.

She was older.

Not much, three or four years, and still on the small side. But it was enough to be disconcerting. Her own face stared back at her - blonde hair, silver eyes. It was less round though, more angular. She was taller and had filled out a bit too, that much she could tell from the way the clothes almost fit. Her eyes, though, were exactly the same - still too old for the face they resided in.

"Fifteen or sixteen" she guessed aloud. Not her actual age – she and Dad had talked about that, how old she was physically, and mentally, in human versus Time Lord ageing. They had discussed how old she had been when Daddy had turned her human. She had thought it must have been very, very young, but the Doctor had explained how Time Lords typically aged more slowly than humans, and it was possible her infancy could have lasted years before she had been turned human. In fact, she could have been as old as twenty-something in basic earth years. And mental maturity was another kettle of fish. Like Sarah Jane had said: Luna easily had the mental maturity of someone her age. So she and her father had just shrugged and left it.

"Oh, that is a problem," she murmured. "What will Dad say?"

Actually, no. How was Dad doing, that was the problem. Was he okay? Was he safe? …Well, that was a stupid question; of course he wasn't. The Master had them all captured, they were at his mercy…

"No. We're not," she reminded her new reflection. "Harold won't harm us as long as he wants us for something. And right now, he wants us." She looked behind herself at the door. "Literally. He wants to see me now."

On cue, the door opened and a soldier stepped in. He saluted smartly, then spoke with the barest trace of hesitation. "The Prime Minister will see you now."

Luna nodded at the obviousness of his statement. "Yes, I know. Do you mind showing me to him?"

The soldier didn't show any change in demeanor at her response, and Luna found some respect for him. Most would have at least batted an eyelash or given her a funny look. Instead he led her out of the room and through the halls, expertly navigating and keeping out of the way. As they approached a pair of sliding doors he moved back, gesturing to her to go. She favored him with a slightly dreamy smile, noting how he would make it out of there mostly unscathed and find a lovely half-blood witch to settle down with.

"Thank you, Mr. Barry."

"You're welcome, miss."

* * *

The Master was pacing again. He always seemed to be pacing where the child was involved. He was running over what he had said to the Doctor, over and over and over again, like a mantra. _She's my prize. She'll do what I tell her to._ _She's my prize. She'll do what I tell her to._ _She's my prize. She'll do what I tell her to. She's my prize._

It was necessary though, to have something to fill that space in his head. Because the drums had been lessened, somehow, by something. He had a feeling the answer was on the other side of the door.

_She'll do what I tell her to._

Except she wouldn't, would she? He had spoken to the girl twice and he already knew that. _Yana_ had known that, curse his tiny human mind. Whatever Luna was, it wasn't a conformist.

And he didn't want her to conform. To conform was to give in. That bright child should never have to give in. She was too important, too powerful, too _much_ to just give in. Even to him. No, he didn't want her defeat. He wanted her to win. He wanted her to learn how to win, by any means necessary, because she was the Legacy of the Time Lords.

And he wanted to be the one to teach her.

It was strange, that urge to instruct another without lasting bodily harm. It should have disgusted him, but it didn't. He honestly wanted her to learn something from him. Part of it was simply his enjoyment of power, but part of it was a strange, resonant parallel. The Master and the Doctor, best of friends, greatest of foes, together teaching the girl everything they knew.

Still. He wouldn't instruct her in things like temporal physics, or sixth dimension mechanics. He had better things to teach, things he knew the Doctor couldn't, or wouldn't. Politics, blackmail, manipulation, power plays, command, hypnotism, how to turn people against each other, how to use limited resources to build the power base one might need - things along that vein. The skills the Doctor had but was too righteous to use openly. Oh, he would be so happy to see his adorable little girl being corrupted. And the child would be better off for it.

Yes, it was a win-win situation. And better yet - it would be _fun._

* * *

I had a hell of a time with it, but the Doctor/Master conversation came out pretty well, I think.

Reviews are, as always, welcome.


	22. Chapter 22

I am inexplicably fond of this chapter.

Disclaimer: I own neither Harry Potter nor Doctor Who.

* * *

Luna entered the room quietly. Saxon was facing away from her, absorbed so completely in whatever he was doing that he didn't respond to her entrance. She waited patiently until it became clear that he wasn't going to turn around.

"You're not as scary as they say you are."

The Master twisted around slowly, masking his surprise.

"Hello, child. You've grown." It was slightly disconcerting; the girl he had been wrestling down only a few hours ago had suddenly transformed into a young woman, literally overnight. Interesting... but hardly a problem. He could work with that.

"I noticed." Her response was dry, slightly amused. That was good, at least she wasn't thrown off by it. Or she was particularly good at masking her feelings. Which was also good, for now. "What did you want, Mr. Saxon?"

"My name is the Master," he told her. Luna looked at him for a long moment, and he felt almost uncomfortable.

"One of them, yes."

What was that supposed to mean? …No, it wasn't important. He didn't care. Let her do what she wanted.

Within reason, of course.

"Do you know why you're here?"

"Because you've taken over Earth and I'm a threat, I'd assume," she replied. The Master inclined his head.

"True. Why else?"

"Because you will teach me something."

Ah. Her gift, yes. That was quite something. Even amongst Time Lords, with their natural proficiencies for seeing Time, a proper Sight was rare. Almost every single Time Lord who had been blessed with it had risen to Council Visionary, a prestigious (if harrowing) position. To have such a powerful gift given to a half-blood was testimony to the loss of Gallifrey. Time, it seemed, was blessing whoever it could.

"Yes. Can you see what it is?"

"If I wanted to."

"Why don't you?"

"Because I know you'll tell me." Luna stared at him, almost daring him to correct her. She expected his annoyance at best, and at least some anger. Instead she was rewarded with a pleased nod.

"Very good. Don't give away more than you have to. Let your adversary give you the answer."

Luna didn't respond. She wasn't sure how to. This wasn't something her dad had sat down and discussed with her as far as she could remember. She had picked up on it relatively early on, as giving each side the answer they wanted without promising anything was an important negotiating skill, one the Doctor possessed in spades, but actually learning the subtle arts of false promises and politics… that was new.

And despite the fact that it was Harold Saxon, or that she was a prisoner along with the most important person in her world, or that Earth was burning below her, she couldn't completely get rid of the feeling that it could be, that it _would_ be, exciting.

* * *

Jack was never allowed out of the engine room, but guards talked. It was an old saying from his days as a Time Agent – Soldiers speak secrets where the walls have ears. Well, the walls might not, but prisoners certainly did. Which was how he knew Luna had been captured, and taken on board the _Vailiant_.

Each day guards came by with new gossip, with new stories. It was vague at first – the Master had found his daughter, had acquired a new toy, had taken to spending long hours locked away with the newest prisoner, was engrossed in something besides worldwide destruction. As time progressed it got clearer, got stranger. The Master had stopped torturing other prisoners, had called off the burning of Japan, was teaching a girl, the girl wasn't actually his daughter…

As soon as they had mentioned her Jack had known who they were talking about. It was obvious, really, because what other child or girl would the Master be so obsessed with? He knew Luna had been captured, and the Master was doing something with (or, more likely, to) her. And though Jack was glad the Master had stopped visiting him after the first week, he was worried. If he was turning all that attention to Luna… It couldn't be healthy.

And yet he was unable to do anything about it.

So he waited, chained up in the dark, grimy engine room, listening to soldiers talk. Over time the gossip changed. The Shadow, they called her, because she was with the Master so often, and because she had taken to sneaking around like a shadow, watching everyone. The guards always had an eye open, waiting to spot her hiding away somewhere. Jack slowly came to the conclusion that the Master had corrupted her, twisting the sweet child into his pet monster, his dark heiress who kept to the dark and watched. And despite the fact that he no longer entertained the crazy Time Lord, each time he heard what had happened to Luna it felt as if another nail had been driven through his gut. He knew the stories. There was no way the Luna he knew would do that.

Which was why he was so surprised when he looked up one night and saw her hanging above him. It was only years of training that kept him silent when he caught sight of her eyes, glittering at him cat-like in the dark. Still, it was only her reproachful finger on his lips that kept him silent as she stood in front of him, older than he had remembered her.

"I can't stay long," she told him, voice barely carrying between the inches of space between them. "Someone will notice soon, and I'll have to be wandering the upper decks aimlessly. But I wanted to say hello and don't believe everything you hear and ask how you were. Harold hasn't been bothering you, has he?"

"What happened to you?" he asked. Luna looked at herself and blinked.

"Oh, the age. It was an accident. Don't worry about it." She paused before repeating herself. "Harold hasn't been bothering you, as he?"

He let her get away with calling him Harold? "I'm as well as you expect," Jack said, voice slightly hoarse from disuse. It had been a while since he had needed it for anything. "He doesn't come down here anymore." Luna looked sad, and that made him worried. "What?"

"It won't be long now until he gets bored. I can't control him any more than he can control me. I'm sorry, Jack, I've tried."

"You…" What? She had been trying to protect him? How? "What have you been doing?"

"What the guards say. Well, among other things; I can't let them know _everything_ I do, can I? Don't look at me like that, it's not _all_ true."

"You're willingly putting yourself under the Master's tutelage?" How much of it _was_ true? And why would she do that? How could she stand it? They were such different people.

"It's not that bad. Jack, stop it, don't make that face. It isn't. He knows so much. Just because I'd never use it doesn't mean I shouldn't learn it. If you had your way you'd teach me how to use a gun, and con people, and steal, even though Dad would never approve."

"Well…"

"It's the same thing. I learn blackmail and manipulation and he keeps busy with things besides torturing you and Dad and the Jones family. I don't really mind. At least I know he won't hurt me."

Jack sighed. "You're just like your dad."

Luna glowed with that praise. "Thank you."

"So why are you down here?"

"To warn you. I don't know if you'll see me again, or how you'll see me. Well, I do know, but I'm not going to tell because it's not information you need and it will only bother you. I just wanted to come down and say sorry in advance and that it will end. You have to remember that, Jack. No matter what happens in the coming months, it _will_ end. Promise me you'll remember?"

"Why?"

"Because it's going to be hard. Really hard. Promise me, Jack Harkness. Promise me you'll remember all is not as it seems and it will end."

As her voice became lighter and dreamier her eyes bored into his, almost forcing him to do what she wanted. She hadn't been able to do that before, and it scared him, just the tiniest bit, because sometimes the Master's eyes were like that.

Then again, so were the Doctor's. When he spoke his mouth was dry.

"I promise."

She smiled, and suddenly that force was gone. "Thank you, Jack. I'll come back when I can. Oh, and if they ask, you never saw me."

"Of course not," he agreed. But she was gone, disappeared back above him into the ducts and pipes of the engine room, on her way up to the habitable portions of the ship.

* * *

The Doctor was always up to date with Luna's schooling. The Master made sure of it, lording his prize over his wizened, weak opponent. The Doctor stayed silent through the jeers, aware of why she did it. Sometimes he wished she had stayed on Earth with Sarah, protected from the madman. But then he would catch a glimpse of the world burning below him and be glad she was safe in the sky.

Even if the Master was using her for something.

Not that he would really qualify it as "using her," he thought to himself as the Master waxed poetic about the corruption of little Luna. More like "treating her like the daughter he didn't have." Which, him being the Master, had the potential to be just as terrifying, but wasn't really, not yet. The Master was too possessive to cause irreparable harm to what he qualified as his. The exception being his wife, but her human heritage probably tempered his feeling towards her, and even if there had been attraction, the Master was easily bored and the flame of lust had died a dismal death.

But it was true - the Master _was_ easily bored. He was losing interest in Luna, the Doctor could tell. Oh, he'd continue to keep her shielded away, a golden bird in a gilded cage, brought out to taunt him and to learn tricks, but it was inevitable that sooner or later he would end his lessons, putting them only to practical use, and return to needling him every waking (and sleeping) hour and "playing" with Jack, or worse the humans imprisoned below. He wasn't looking forward to that.

"You're not paying attention to me." His reverie was interrupted by a whiny scowl directed at him from above. It was pointless to argue.

"Of course not," he agreed amicably. "You may be enjoying world domination but I have other things to think about."

The Master raised an eyebrow at that, leaning on the table. "Well, you're in a good mood," he noted with heavy sarcasm. "Care to share?"

The Doctor considered it for a moment. "No, it's fine. Continue, I'll listen."

The Master cast a suspicious glare over him but didn't ask. Though he would never admit it, he was in a good mood as well. He had visited the Freak earlier that day, for the first time in months, and he had just realized how much he had missed it. Maybe he'd take Luna by to see him… But wait, they were friends, weren't they? Who cared, it would crush the Freak's morale and toughen up the girl. Win-win. He liked win-win situations.

"She's such a pretty one, your girl, and smart too…"

* * *

Luna was tired of the disguise. Well, it was more of a personality than a disguise, but she was still tired of it. It wasn't that it was hard to keep straight - she always knew which Luna she was - it was just hard to keep it up. The Master was a sadistic, clever bastard and playing the part of the beaten yet inquisitive schoolgirl was taxing. And rather unrewarding. It was much more fun to wander the ship and scare the guards. She knew what they called her, what stories they told. Better that than the Master's sycophant.

She was tired of the games as well. Months had passed in the Master's company, each day longer than the last. Each day there were new restrictions, new places she couldn't go, new people she couldn't talk to, new things she could do. The Master was getting bored too, weary of her company, her lack of suffering. He wanted to go back to playing with his other toys, the ones he could hurt and break and then put back together wrong. Honestly, by now it was probably useless to keep up the act. But she couldn't say anything, because that would be condemning the others to pain at the hand of the madman who kept them as pets.

Luna missed her dad. She hadn't seen him since her first morning aboard the _Vailiant_, and even then just briefly through the haze of panic. In truth the last time she had really seen him had been that night at Sarah Jane's house. Sarah Jane's…. Was the house still standing? Were they alive? Or had they burned with the rest of the planet? Maybe they had been rounded up with the rest of the slaves the Master was collecting. She sighed. Thinking about that was useless; she had no way to stop it even if it had happened, and she would only worry herself thinking about it.

The hissing of the door brought her back to present day Earth, which was not a place she really wanted to be. Saxon was standing at her door, looking happy, which was a bad thing. His grin widened as she twisted around on her bare bed to look at him.

"Yes?" she asked mildly, pleased at how even it sounded.

"I've had an idea. I want you to lead the bombing of Russia."

"I'm not interested, thank you. Ask Lucy to do it."

The Master scowled. "It wasn't a question, child."

"I'm still not interested."

The Master's scowl deepened. "Don't be rude, it's unbecoming. You _are_ going to order the bombing of Russia. It'll be good for you."

"I'm tired of things being good for me. I quit."

The Master spluttered at that. Actually spluttered. Luna felt a momentary sense of accomplishment, though it was instantly tempered by worry at her continued existence. "You can't _quit_. You're my prisoner. I'll _make_ you do it."

"In which case you're leading the bombing of Russia; you're just relaying the orders to me and I'm relaying them to your men. You don't win."

"I-" Who had said it was about winning?

"It's always about winning," she said, leaving him wondering if he had asked aloud. "So thank you for all the lessons, and I do hope they'll continue, but I'm not interested right now. Maybe I will be later. Oh, and your wife is looking for you on level seventeen."

With that dismissal she waved him out the door, closing it behind him with a burst of well controlled magic. As soon as he was gone she sank back onto the bed, suddenly tired, and certain that things were going to be much more difficult.

* * *

It was months before Jack Harkness saw Luna Etoile alone again. She showed up in the middle of the night, appearing in the blink of an eye with a small pop of displaced air. She rocked back on her heels for a moment, then regained her balance, though she still looked slightly uncomfortable.

"Hello, Jack." He blinked, trying to decide if she was really there or it was just him finally going crazy under the Master's careful ministrations.

"Luna? What was that, how did you…?"

"It's called apparition; it's a wizard thing." At his befuddled look she expanded on her answer. "Sort of like… teleportation fueled by a natural connection with the ambient energy in the air."

Jack nodded slowly, still staring. She looked worse off than she had before. Dark bags hung under her eyes, one of which may have actually been a bruise, her hair was messy, pulled into a tangled bun behind her head. She was thin, too thin, and pale, and tired looking. Still, her eyes managed to smile at him.

And, he realized belatedly as she looked at him, he probably looked just as bad, covered in dirt and grime and grease and blood and scars and half-healed broken bones. It wasn't something for a child to see. He would know.

"Saxon's been coming by," she noted. "I'm sorry, Jack."

"It's not your fault," Jack replied on reflex. When she looked ready to argue he continued. "You can't keep him occupied for months on end. He was bound to get bored eventually."

"But I told him I wouldn't bomb Russia, and then he stopped visiting all together. He's been coming to hurt you, hasn't he?" she countered.

Jack looked at her in confusion. "When did that happen?"

Luna shrugged, trying to remember. Than in itself worried Jack; the Doctor had often expressed how Time Lords had an unerring sense of time. "A few weeks ago."

"Lu… He's been coming by for months. It didn't start with you."

A small 'oh' of sad, expected surprise. Then, "You called me Lu."

Jack shrugged. "I call your dad 'Doc'. I like nicknames." He pressed on into the uncertain silence. "You can't blame yourself for it; that's what he's expecting. That's how he works."

"I _know_ how he works," she snipped back, then blinked in surprise. "Oh, that was rude. I'm sorry, I try to leave being rude up to Dad." Her eyes clouded suddenly and she rocked back on her heels, breathing ragged. "Except Dad can't be rude, because then Saxon will hurt him-"

"Lu," Jack tried to interrupt quietly before she could get started, but Luna continued right over him. Jack watched in slight shock as she slowly worked herself into a panic

"-but Saxon will hurt him anyways. I failed, Jack. I wanted to keep him away from you, away from the people on Earth. He was going to do it-"

"Lu," he tried again, slightly louder, but her voice just started rising, hands clenching.

"-he called off the burning of Japan in June but he's changed his mind, he's going to kill them all, 127,700,000 people who are going to burn to death because he wants them to and-"

"Luna, you have to calm down."

"-I can't stop it. I'm stuck alone in my room for days and days and I'm scared Jack, I'm scared I'm going to feel it-"

"Luna, you need to breathe. Breathe."

"-can you imagine that? Feeling 127,700,000 people burn to death, now and echoing through Time, and all the other hurt and pain and death and what if it breaks down my shields, Jack? What if I start feeling everything? I'll go mad, I'll-" She was having trouble continuing, her breathing continuing to speed up.

"Luna! Calm down. Breathe." He strained against the iron shackles, ignoring the spark of pain in his broken wrist, trying to reach the girl crumpling in on herself in front of him, but he couldn't move. "Luna listen to me. You can hear me, right? You need to breathe. Cup your hands in front of your face… There you go. Now breathe…" Jack gently coached her, and soon she was breathing normally again, relaxed on the greasy metal floor. She stayed there for a few moments, crouched down on the floor, breathing.

"Sorry," she whispered, voice small. "I didn't mean to lose control."

"It's fine," Jack told her gently. "I won't tell anyone. And Luna?"

"Hmm?"

"You have to remember – no matter what happens in the coming months, it _will_ end. Promise me you'll remember?"

Luna favored him with a slight smile at the repletion of the words she had given him a few months ago. "I promise, Uncle Jack. Thank you. I should go now, I've been gone too long. I'll try to visit again."

"Don't get in trouble," he warned. She raised an eyebrow, and for the first time she looked somewhat like the girl he remembered. And the Doctor, which was slightly troubling.

"Who do you think I am, my father?" Then, with a twist and a slight pop of displaced air, she was gone. Jack smiled at the empty air in front of him, the uncomfortable pull of the chains on his wrists mitigated by the dreamy sense of survival that Luna left behind.

"One day," he murmured in answer to the humming engine room around him, the last image of her still flickering in his mind's eye. "I think you will be."

* * *

The Doctor waited in unending, painful silence. Of course he did; the Master's visits were the only things that ever happened to him. The rest of the time he was reduced to sitting amongst soldiers, watching the planet slowly being destroyed below him.

When the Master did show up, though, it wasn't… well, it was never good. The madman was crazed, drunk off the destruction and suffering. He could show up at any time, rambling about the burning people below him, the slave houses populated with people bringing his plans to fruition. He would lay out every detail for the Doctor, enjoying the alien's discomfort and disgust and suffering. The Doctor was never allowed to speak - it would earn him a slap, a kick, another death for Jack, another lost meal to Luna… it all depended on what mood the Master was in.

Instead he would listen, listen while the Master's words wore away his strength. It was so long… unending, an unending, losing fight. Sometimes he hated himself for not ending it at the beginning, for missing that chance.

Other times he though about Martha. Down on Earth, all alone, trying to do one more impossible task he asked of her. She was so strong, it was easy to forget how fragile she was, how human she was. Often he wondered if he had sent her to her death, before his mind shied away from the thought. So many had died on his account, he didn't want to think about adding to those numbers. There was too much death, too much fire, burning ravenous fire licking the world, sending up smoke to dirty the bright planet. His daughter's home, his second home. He had sworn to protect it as he couldn't protect Gallifrey. And now… now look at it. Slowly coming to pieces under the ministrations of his once-best friend.

All he wanted was their safety. All he wanted was to be able to trust that Earth would always be there, open to him if he needed it. It seemed that would never happen.

Most of all he missed his little girl.

* * *

Jack came back to life with a gasp, fighting back a shout and swearing. His leg was still broken, unable to bear weight. Dammit, that _hurt_. The Master was still standing there.

"Sorry," he said, not sounding it at all.

Jack spit out a mouthful of blood. "What do you want?"

"Universal domination and the Doctor to shut up," he replied somewhat cheerfully. "But that's not why I'm here." Jack didn't reward him with a response. "Alright, fine. I just won't tell you what happened to your little team."

What happened to his… Torchwood? His team? "What, what happened?"

The Master smiled in sadistic glee. "They died! Well, the awkward nerd girl was already dead, and your smart ass doctor. But the other two died today! What's-her-face Upstanding Citizen and the silent Welsh one. They were picked up trying to break into one of the government buildings with the old woman Luna likes so much… And of course, I just had to kill them. I thought you might want to know."

Jack stayed silent. Tosh, Owen, Gwen. Ianto. Practically his family, the only people on Earth he trusted even a little. "You bastard."

The Master just smiled. "I also thought you might want to know - they were planning on rescuing you. I'm sure you're proud of the fools."

Jack bowed his head, closing his eyes against the loss. He never saw the gun, and by the time he woke up the Master was gone.

It was only then he had realized Luna had been there too, watching.

Jack swore.

* * *

Tish Jones hated Harold Saxon. Not as much as her mother did though - the elder woman's loathing was always present. In the glares, the scowling, the harsh movements, the sense of a string about to snap. Tish worried for her. If this kept on she might end up working herself to death.

Then again, it would probably happen anyways.

Tish had learned a lot under the Master's watchful eye. How to cook to his specifications. First aid. How hard it was to wash blood off metal. What it looked like to be burned to death. How exactly to get someone to do what you wanted by hurting someone else. How few meals a child could eat a day.

It was the child she felt for most. The girl must have been fifteen, sixteen, but she was a tiny thing. Too thin, circles under her eyes, dirty, haunted. Sometimes Tish saw her muttering to herself, staring at nothing with such horrible pity. It made her shiver. No child should look like that. No one should look like that, period. If she had been frightened, been angry, that would have been survivable. Not good, but she would have understood. But no, it was pity. Tish shivered at the though.

Not that she didn't feel pity herself. At least she had food and was relatively out of the Master's way. But Captain Jack – such a charming man – seemed to be his number one plaything. And Saxon's wife… poor, poor woman, holed up with that man, expected to be with him each night. Tish noticed the bruises, even if she didn't comment. She tried to help, she did, but the woman had taken to refusing anything and everything. Poor Lucy Saxon. What had she ever done to deserve that?

It wasn't her place to say, of course. It was never her place to say. Instead she kept her head down and went about her work, hating Harold Saxon.

* * *

Lucy Saxon had been born Lucy Cole. Her father was rich, her schooling was good, she knew all the right people. She was pretty, smart enough, somewhat influential and had enough wit to have a nice conversation with just about anyone. Her life had been just about perfect.

And then she met Harold Saxon.

Harry had been working on a book, "Kiss Me, Kill Me". She had been at the publishing house, why exactly she couldn't remember. They had bumped into each other on the stairs, apologized, and gone on their separate ways. Lucy wouldn't have remembered it if they hadn't met again.

But they did. A week later she bumped into him at the Ministry of Defense. Her father had something to do there and Lucy had offered to join him, citing interest in going into politics. Her father had humored her. That was when she had met Harold Saxon the second time. That time they actually got to talking. They had had a nice conversation, and Harry had invited her to join him later.

She took him up on it.

After that it just… grew. Tagging along when Lord Cole visited the Ministry. Stopping by the publishing house. Helping him more and more with his book, peaceful walks by the river, surprise trips around town. At some point Lucy realized they were courting. She enjoyed it.

Then he had said something that didn't fit and she had figured him out. He had expected her to be frightened, to leave… but she didn't. She found it alluring, his otherworldliness, his power. She began working to include herself in his world. He let her, attracted to her ability to work the system. It was no question that they would be married.

The ceremony was surprisingly secret, and there was no one afterwords to say what they had seen. Somehow all the story about Mr. Saxon suddenly included Mrs. Saxon, his wife of thirteen years who he had met in college. Then he had breached the subject of a certain Luna Smith and she had accepted it immediately, weaving it into their story. Harry would find the girl and she would have her perfect family, at the top of the world. She would love Luna like she loved Harry, like Harry loved her. It was all perfect. And if a few people had to die… It was a loss, certainly, but all the more sweet for the cost.

For the first months it had worked like that. Luna had been her returned daughter – a litter older, perhaps, but still good. They had spent time together talking. The girl had had a surprisingly astute grasp of politics and blackmail and history and they entertained themselves. Sometimes Harry would join them and her fantasy would be complete.

But it didn't last. Over time Luna became more withdrawn, visited less. Harry did too, citing his alien physiology for his lack of sleep. She would wake some mornings and find the other side of the bed untouched.

Then he had returned. But it was not the Harry she knew.

The new Harry was harsh, violent, demanding. If she refused he would hit her. If she was outspoken he would hit her. If he was in a bad mood, he would hit her. All at once her vision crumbled around her, leaving her bereft of everything. She was suddenly aware of how it could have been her father, burning down there on Earth, trapped in the slave houses. Or maybe he was long dead, along with her mother and the rest of her friends and family. That was when she realized she had damned herself.

And she damned Harry. If only she had never met him, if only she could have continued to be a beautiful, free girl, visiting friends and going to parties hosted by wealthy heirs and heiresses. Maybe she would have met a nice, handsome boy her father approved of. She could have settled down, married into a wealthy household, started a family… But because she had ran into Harold Saxon, because he had fooled her with his stories of woven gold she couldn't, never would be able to. Even if it all ended… she would always be remembered as the traitor who stood next to Harold Saxon as he destroyed the world.

That was the day she resolved to kill him.

* * *

The Master was livid. Really, properly angry at her, for the first time. It scared her. Not that she would admit it, of course, but being caught out-of-bounds was not something she had been expecting. It was too late now. All she could do was weather it.

And maybe use it to her advantage.

The Master's hand descended suddenly, marking pale skin pink. She winced.

"What did I tell you?"

Silence. Another slap.

"What did I tell you?"

"It doesn't matter what you told be because I didn't do it." Regaining her footing, all the more stubborn for the harshness.

"Brat. You're just like your father."

"Thank you." Pride in that, pride that even he couldn't squash. He hit her anyways. Luna idly wondered if his mother ever taught him it wasn't nice to hit girls. She doubted it – she had seen Lucy Saxon.

"I said _stay_. How did you even get out?"

"Magic," Luna replied, refusing to finger her stinging cheek. The Master rewarded her with an unamused glare. She shrugged. "It's true."

The Master stayed scowling but moved back, accepting the answer for the time being. "I'm sure."

There was a moment of silence while the Master contemplated her punishment. She was already such a tiny thing already. The quiet was broken by Luna. "It's the drums, isn't it?"

"What?"

"They're worse. When the drums get worse you do too. I've been watching."

"How can you watch that?"

Luna gave him a look. "You forget, don't you? I can See it."

Suddenly the Master felt ill. She had a Sight, and he was- She could see everything he did, couldn't she? The anger evaporated, and though the drums pounded in argument, disgust took it's place.

"It's alright," she told him. "You're not the only one who forgets."

"I don't want you seeing… that." Not all of it, anyways. A taste, not a meal. Just enough to scare you, to bend. Not so much that you break. You're my prize. I don't want a broken bird in my gilded cage.

"Then why do you do it?"

What?

"Why do you do that, if you don't want it to be seen? Why do you keep doing it, if you don't want me to see it?"

"I-" Because it was what he did. He couldn't _explain_ it. It just _was_.

"'Power can be consolidated and utilized in multiple ways.' You're the one who taught me that. Why make them suffer for it?"

Because. Just because. Why not? They weren't useful, they were like ants, he was squashing ants, he was- Why did it matter? He just did.

"It's not all about winning, Saxon. Sometimes it's okay to let go."

"…" I don't _do_ that, child. How could I start now? "Why don't you call me by my name?"

"I do call you by your name."

"No you don't."

"I call you by one of them," she responded. It wasn't until after she disappeared with a small pop of displaced air that he realized the drums had once again receded.

The Master closed his eyes. Bested by a child. What had he come to?

That was, of course, when he got the call that Martha Jones had been found.

* * *

Reviews are, as always, welcome.


	23. Chapter 23

Disclaimer: I own neither Harry Potter nor Doctor Who.

* * *

Martha Jones was a hardened woman. She hadn't started out like that, of course, but after endless weeks of trekking through what was left of her homeworld it was impossible not to be affected. Actually, she though she had done fairly well – at least her mind was in one piece. Too often had she come upon the shattered remains of human beings, people barely surviving in the new world, minds shattered under the pressure.

With each step she took she hated the Master. Hated him for his Toclafane, his humans from the future killing their ancestors. Hated him for his slave houses, his shipyards. Hated him for his vision of the future, for his destruction of her home. Hated him for what he'd done to the Doctor, to Luna, to Jack, to the TARDIS. Hated him for everything.

She never said it. Always she was uplifting. Selfless. Giving everything to all the other unfortunate souls trapped in this thankless hell of existence. Her needs didn't matter - she was doing this to help them. That was why she trained to be a doctor, to help others, even if it was a sacrifice. It was always a sacrifice. This was just the ultimate one. But it would get better, she had to believe it would, because otherwise what was keeping her from kneeling over right where she was and giving up, wasting away until she died? Even in the darkest hours where everything was cold, dark defeat she kept herself going through sheer willpower, knowing that she could help, that she could make that difference.

So she walked on and told the story, just like the Doctor had asked. Told them to remember, to use the countdown.

She also realized, as she walked alone, a few personal things. Feelings she could work out. How she had never loved the Doctor, just the idea of him. How much she actually cared for little Luna. What she really wanted to do with her life. How she found herself being drawn to a certain Dr. Thomas Milligan.

How surprisingly sad she was when he died, and how the calculated betrayal had hurt more than she had expected.

How ready she was to face the Master. She could do it. She would do, she is doing it. Martha Jones will save the world.

* * *

The Doctor's size didn't bother him. Not much, anyways. He had had worse days, and even though the bird cage was a blow to his pride it was more comfortable than the doggie bed. It also had a much better view, which, after ages sitting in a wheelchair, was a small blessing.

It also meant, he knew, that it was almost over.

It meant Earth was almost safe.

It meant Martha was almost back, Jack was almost free.

It meant he could almost see his daughter again.

The doors hissed open suddenly, the Master entering at the head of a procession. A few soldiers, Jack, Lucy, more soldiers, Luna…

Luna.

She was older. That was the first thing he noticed, too much older. He had missed years of her life, locked away in the bird cage, crippled and old. She was too thin, tired, he could tell even from the distance. Her hair was a mess, her clothes were grimy, she looked so worn.

And she was there with him, for the first time in a year. He could see her, he knew she was there, she was safe, she was _alive_. If he had been able to move on his own he would have been over there in seconds, comforting her, holding her, but he couldn't be. That would have to wait until the rest was taken care of.

And then he would never let her go again.

* * *

Luna watched Saxon. She watched him set himself up in a trap, a trap that she had seen coming for twelve months. Seeing it come to fruition was beautiful, cleansing. And just a little sad, because as horrible as he was, Harold Saxon was a brilliant man. It would be a pity to lose his mind.

Still. He was a murdering megalomaniac and the world - and universe - would be safer without him. No matter how little time it lasted. Oh, but the second coming was not a time to look forward to.

But that would be then and this was now, and as events unfolded around her she found herself staring at the Doctor. At her dad, who was there and much smaller and frailer than she had ever seen him, but alive. Alive. Just seeing him again was wonderful, a sad but clean presence in the ocean of Time, washing away the sick signature of Saxon. She could have basked in it all day, despite its hurt, despite the faint twisting of too old/not right/still sick that clung to him. He was too bright a river to be dimmed by that.

The doors hissed open then, and suddenly Martha was there, looking harder and more rugged than she had before. She was sharper, the light that glowed inside her was harsher. But it was still Martha, and at her core was the need to do good.

As for Martha herself, she smiled softly. Smiled at the Doctor, so tiny in his cage. Smiled at Luna, too old and too weary. Smiled at Jack, filthy yet as charming as ever. Smiled at the countdown ticking away in the corner, at the fleeting minutes until a fleet built by the hands of slaves was set to launch across the universe, conquering everything until Harold Saxon was master of all. Martha Jones just smiled.

The Master looked down on them, grinning maniacally. As far has he was concerned, it was over. Now he was just playing with them. _And that's the trap_, Luna nodded to herself.

"At zero, to mark this day, the child, Martha Jones, will die," he declared pompously. "The first blood of a cosmic war. Any last words? No?" He looked to the Doctor in mock dissatisfaction. "Such a disappointment, this one. Days of old, Doctor, you had companions who could absorb the time vortex. This one's useless." He sneered at Martha, ordering her onto her knees. He pulled out his laser screwdriver, prepping it, continuing on with his speech. "Bow your head," he ordered her harshly before turning out to speak to all again. "And so it falls to me, Master of all, to establish from this day a new order of Time Lords! From this day forward-" He was cut off suddenly, for the strangest reason.

Because Martha Jones - his prisoner, about to be executed while her planet went to war against the universe - was trying not to laugh.

"What?" he demanded. "What's so funny?"

"A gun?" she asked him, still fighting back a giggle.

"Yes, what about it?"

"A gun in four parts?"

"Yes, and I destroyed it." Luna smiled softly. A useless weapon the Master had destroyed. Or, rather, a pointless weapon. An unnecessary one. Springing the trap.

"A gun in four parts scattered across the world?" Martha continued, gaining control of herself. "Come on. Did you really believe that?"

The Master was moving towards the defensive. "What do you mean?"

When the Doctor spoke his voice was small, hoarse, full of contempt, and carried the weight of the world. "As if I would ask her to kill."

"It doesn't matter," the Master insisted, not letting it faze him. "I've got her exactly where I want her."

"She's got you exactly where she wants you," Luna countered. The Master looked to her sharply.

"What?"

"I knew Professor Docherty would betray us, that's why I went to her," Martha explained as she rose to her feet. "She could get me here, at the right time."

"You're still going to die," the Master told her. Martha gave him a look, and he had a sudden bad feeling.

"Don't you want to know what I was doing?" the woman asked him. "Traveling the world?"

The Master wanted - no, he needed - to know. What had she done, what had he missed? "Tell me."

"I told a story, that's all. No weapons, just words. I did just what the Doctor said. I went across the continents all on my own. And everywhere I went, I found the people, and I told them my story. I told them about the Doctor. I told them to pass it on, to spread it to the world so that everyone would know about him."

"Faith and hope?" the Master was both disgusted and relieved. Nothing that could harm him. Foolish words from a fake prophet.

"No, 'cos I gave them an instruction, just like the Doctor said. I told them if everyone thinks of one word, at one specific time-"

"Nothing will happen," the Master interrupted angrily. "Is that your weapon? _Prayer_?" He spat the word out in disgust.

"Right across the world," Martha continued. "One word, one though at one moment… but with fifteen satellites."

And the Master realized it. "What?" he breathed. His own creation, turned against him.

"The Archangel Network," Jack breathed.

"A telepathic field binding the human race together. Your telepathic field. And they're all thinking the same thing; each one of them is thinking one word," Luna said, understanding completely, seeing it happen in the gold. She smiled faintly, feeling rather than seeing as the timer reached zero. "Doctor."

It was echoed, echoed by over six billion people across the world below, all of them crying for salvation. All of them contributing to the energy that was feeding through fifteen satellites high above Earth to him, to her brilliant father, her father who was growing, who was healing, who was becoming himself again. And no matter how much the Master protested or backed away or threatened him or ordered him to stop, there was no way to keep it from happening. The entire planet was cheering for him, backing him.

"I've had a whole year to tune myself into the psychic network and integrate with its matrices," the Doctor said as he grew. "No matter what, there's one thing you can't do. Stop them thinking."

"No!" The Master was vehement in his opposition, cringing away from the very existence of his opponent, refusing to be beaten even though he already had been. The Doctor was winning.

_It's always about winning_, Harold Saxon's words echoed around her head.

"Tell me the human race is degenerate now, when they can do this."

"No! I'll kill them, I'll kill them all." And he was pressed against the wall, into the corner, refusing to let it happen. But he had no choice. He had lost.

And then the Doctor was bending down and whispering something to the Master, something only they could hear, and the Master was cowering away as the Doctor stayed next to him, whispering.

"Jack… the paradox machine," Luna murmured. Jack nodded sharply, picking up a gun and a squad of men.

And then the Master and the Doctor disappeared.

Luna didn't waste time on it. She was up the stairs in an instant, flicking switches, looking at readings. Martha appeared next to her. The looked at each other for a moment, then Luna wrapped her in a hug.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry," the girl murmured. "You're brilliant, you know that? Brilliant Martha Jones. Don't ever change."

Martha spared a moment to hug her back. But they were in the middle of a major crisis and as the Doctor had once said, "Never waste time on a hug".

"We've got all six billion spheres heading for us!"

"I'm working on shields. Jack had better get to the paradox machine fast…" The paradox machine that was letting the Toclafane kill their ancestors, that was behind the entire mess, that was their cannibalized TARDIS.

And then, suddenly, everything was shaking and pieces of the ship were flying everywhere and the spheres were gone and her dad was holding her again.

Her dad was holding her again.

"Everyone down," he ordered as they fell, shielding her. "Time is reversing!" Then it was just them, holding onto each other again, laughing while Martha fell next to them, safe, secure, the day saved. Luna clung to him, relishing it.

"I'm never letting go of you," she whispered.

"I know, Lunette. I know. You're so, _so_ brave. I love you."

"Love you too, Dad."

The shaking faded away, leaving a messy room and a familiar day in its place. The Doctor sat up slowly, keeping Luna close to him.

"The paradox is broken; we've revered back a year and a day. Two minutes past eight in the morning."

Luna let out a breath, one she didn't know she had been holding. Perhaps she had been holding it since the Year started. She released it now, relaxing into her dad's embrace, feeling the worn look melt away. It was alright. It was all okay.

"The day the President was killed," Martha added shakily. The Doctor nodded.

"After he was killed, but before the spheres arrived. Everything is back to normal. Planet Earth is restored. None of it happened."

"The rockets?" Martha asked. "The slavery?"

The Doctor's response was gentle, soothing. "It never was."

"And the spheres?"

"Trapped at the end of the universe again," Luna answered.

"But…" It was Francine Jones, Martha's mum, standing up at the far end of the room. "I remember it."

"We're at the eye of the storm," the Doctor answered solemnly. "The only people who will ever know." He suddenly caught sight of Martha's dad, getting to his feet nearby. Full of old, excited energy he offered a hand. "Oh, hello, you must be Mr. Jones. We haven't actually met."

The Master took the Doctor's momentary lapse in attention to attempt to make an escape, but Jack was on the other side of the doors, catching him as he tried to race out.

"Whoa, you don't want to miss the party," Jack told him, holding out a hand for cuffs from a nearby soldier. The Master's hands caught behind his back, Jack moved him back into the room. "So, what do we do with this one?"

"Kill him."

"Execute him." The two answers were simultaneous. The Doctor shook his head.

"No, that's not the solution."

And suddenly, Francine Jones had a gun in her hand. "Oh, I think so," she said quietly, aim dead on, hand steady. "'Cos all those… things. They still happened because of him. I _saw_ them."

"Go on," the Master growled, baiting her. "Do it!"

"Francine…" the Doctor said quietly. "You're better than him." Francine's hand stayed steady, then she began shaking and dropped the gun. Martha darted forward to pull her into a hug. The Master looked up at the Doctor, Luna standing by his side.

"You still haven't answered the question. What happens to me?"

"You're my responsibility from now on." He didn't elaborate, and the Master wasn't sure he wanted him to. He _had_ harmed Luna, and retribution would be coming.

Jack voiced what they were all thinking. Even Luna, even the Doctor. Perhaps even the Master himself. "You can't trust him."

"The only safe place for him is the TARDIS," the Doctor replied, keeping his eyes trained on the Master.

"You mean you're gonna just… keep me?" The disgust was clear in his voice. The Doctor gave him an appraising look.

"If that's what I have to do." He turned back to Jack. "Maybe it's time to change. Maybe I've been wandering for too long."

A gunshot broke the moment, then another, harsh and loud. The Master staggered backwards a few steps, falling. The Doctor sprung forward, catching him. Luna stayed back. Jack wrested the gun from Lucy's hand, but she was willing enough to drop it. She had done what she promised to do. Damn the consequences.

"I've got you, I've got you," the Doctor said gently, lowering him to the floor.

"Always the women," the Master said, half amused, half angry.

"I didn't see her," the Doctor apologized.

"Dying in your arms…" the Master mused. "Happy?"

"You're not dying, don't be stupid. It's only a bullet. Regenerate."

"No." No, he wouldn't.

"One little bullet," the Doctor repeated. "Come on."

"I refuse."

"Regenerate. Just regenerate," the Doctor ordered. "Please. Please. Just regenerate. Come on!" He was shaking him, as if he could force the man to do it, ordering him to.

"And spend the rest of my life imprisoned with you?" His voice was harsh, was disgusted, was refusing.

"You've got to," the Doctor begged. "It can't end like this. You and me, all the things we've done. Axons, remember the Axons? And the Daleks? We're the only two left. You want to teach Luna." He paused, waiting for an answer. Then, "Regenerate!"

"It's not always about winning, Doctor," the Master murmured. "That's what your little girl told me. Happy now?" There was a pause, and the Master looked up to meet the Doctor's eyes. He was surprised when he found tears there. "Will stop, Doctor?" He needed the conformation, the knowledge that he would finally be able to rest, finally have silence. He needed to know that, know that before the darkness completely blotted out his vision. He needed to see the truth in the Doctor's eyes, because the truth was always in the Doctor's eyes. "The drumming. Will it stop?"

_I hope so, my friend,_ the deep brown eyes above him said sadly. _I hope so._

And then he was gone.

The others watched on in silence as the Doctor cried quietly over a murder's corpse. None of them - save Luna - understood. She stepped forwards to join her father, reaching down to close the man's eyes.

"He's at peace," she murmured, watching the darkness in the gold melt away, leaving his free, bright presence glitter for a few seconds longer before fading itself. "He can rest now." She stayed there, holding the Doctor's hand, watching the body of his once-best friend and her teacher-jailer cool in the aftermath, ignoring what would happen next time they met. That was a problem for another time. For now it was over.

Yes. It was over.

* * *

The funeral pyre burned lonely in the empty plains. Luna stood back as her father lit it, bowing his head in remembrance. When he was ready he moved to join her and they left together. And as they stepped away, Luna felt a new story start, or perhaps it was the same one continuing. She felt the betrayal start, the madness sit up and sniff the air, the dismal lonely death hover on the horizon.

But that was the future and this was now. And for once, Luna wasn't going to mix the two.

* * *

The four of the original travelers leaned against a rail by a building in Cardiff Bay. There was a peaceful if surreal sort of atmosphere around them. People strode by, completely unaware of who any of them were.

"Time was every single one of these people knew your name," Martha remarked quietly. "Now they've all forgotten."

"Good," the Doctor replied. The silence hung in the air until Jack broke it again.

"Back to work, then."

"I don't mind," the Doctor offered. "Come with us." Jack smiled at that, and Luna knew what his choice was going to be.

"I had plenty of time to think that past year, the Year That Never Was. And I kept thinking about that team of mine. Like you said, Doctor - responsibility."

"Defending the Earth," the Doctor nodded. "Can't argue with that." He reached out a hand to shake Jack's and uncovered the vortex manipulator.

"Hey," Jack protested as the Doctor went to work with his sonic screwdriver.

"I can't have you walking around with a time-traveling teleport. You could go anywhere twice."

"The second time to apologize," Luna added. Jack scowled good naturally at her for a moment, then turned back to the Doctor.

"What about me? Can you fix that?" He paused, sounding both hopeful and apprehensive. "Will I ever be able to die?"

"There's nothing I can do. You're an impossible thing, Jack."

"Yes," Luna answered suddenly. "Yes, one day you'll die. Everyone's timeline must end someday. Even yours, Jack."

"Thanks, Lu." He smiled at that, almost relieved. He began to leave, then turned back and saluted. "Sir. Ma'am. Miss." He stepped off again, then turned back again. "Sorry, but I keep wondering - what about aging? I keep getting old. What happens if I live for over a million years."

"I don't know," the Doctor admitted. Jack chuckled.

"Vanity, sorry. I can't help it. Used to be a poster boy when I was a kid, y'know. Boeshane Penninsula, tiny little place. They were so proud when I signed up for the Time Agency - first one ever. The Face of Boe they called me." He paused, paying no attention to Martha and the Doctor's stunned looks, instead giving a small salute to Luna. "See you around. Keep picking those pockets."

"Damn. You noticed?" Luna tossed his psychic paper back to him. Jack smiled.

"Next time, maybe. See you."

As he ran across the Plass, Martha and the Doctor stared after him.

"Can't be," Martha denied.

"No, definitely not," the Doctor agreed. "No." Martha started chuckling. "No." Luna just shook her head sadly as they both dissolved into laughter.

* * *

The inside of the TARDIS was just like Luna remembered it. Warm coral, with the rotor in the middle, illuminating everything. She sat in the jump seat as the Doctor fiddled with a few knobs, waiting for Martha.

"Are you alright?" the Doctor asked softly. Luna looked up.

He was staring down at her gently, a reminder of how much they needed to talk about. "I'm not sure," she replied. "I will be, I know. I think I am."

"That's good," the Doctor replied. There was a sense in the air they were dancing around an issue. Luna waited for him to confront it. Or ask about something else. "It's my fault, isn't it?"

"What is?"

"Taking away those years of your life."

"It's mine," she replied. "Or the Master's, maybe. But not yours, never yours."

Silence stretched on, and then the Doctor filled the air with a rush of words. "I'm sorry, Lunette, I'm so sorry I couldn't keep him away from you. I never, ever wanted you to have to see that. You don't need to see that. You're so young… I'm sorry."

"It's okay, Dad," Luna murmured, getting up to give him a hug. "I will be fine. You'll be fine. We made it, they made it, it never happened. The only scars are in our minds, and even those will heal with time. I don't blame you, I never will. I trust you."

"Thank you," he murmured into her hair. Luna smiled faintly even though he couldn't see it.

"You're welcome." There was a quick pause. "Is it bad if I miss him?"

"No," the Doctor replied instantly, before continuing more hesitantly. "I miss him too."

It was then that Martha walked in, and the Doctor hopped over to her, twice as excitable, twice as hyper, twice as healed. "Right, off we go! The open road! There is a burst of starfire right now over the coast of Meta Sigmafolio. Oh, the sky is like oil on water. Fancy a look? Or…back in time. We could…I don't know, Charles II? Henry VIII? I know! What about Agatha Christie? I'd love to meet Agatha Christie! I bet she's brilliant!" Upon seeing Martha's expression he sobered, his voice moving from excited to accepting at once. "Okay."

"I just can't," Martha said softly. The Doctor nodded briefly.

"Yeah."

"I spent all these years training to be a doctor," she explained. "Now I've got people to look after. They saw half the planet slaughtered and they're devastated. I can't leave them."

"Of course not." He smiled faintly. "Thank you." He hugged her tightly, trying to convey all his gratitude at once. "Martha Jones, you saved the world."

"Yes, I did. I spent a lot of time with you thinking I was second best. But you know what? I am good. You gonna be alright?"

"Always," the Doctor nodded. "I've got Luna."

Martha smiled at that. "Take care of him," she asked. Luna smiled back, her normal, dreamy smile. Everything was good again.

"Of course I will," she promised. "We'll see you again."

"I believe you. Oh, and Doctor?"

"Hmm?"

She tossed him her cell phone. "Keep that. 'Cos I'm not having you disappear. If that rings - _when_ that rings - you better come running. Got that?"

"Got it."

"I'll see you again, mister." Then she was out of the TARDIS, out onto the street, out with her family. And Luna and the Doctor were alone.

Only for a moment though, because then the Titanic was crashing through the wall.

Something on the console beeped, and while the Doctor stared in utter confusion at the hull of a ship poking through the TARDIS, Luna went to go see what it was. A smile slowly slid across her face, and she turned to the Doctor.

"Dad? I know now isn't the best time, but…" Her grin widened. "Will's calling."

* * *

Does anyone remember Will? I've been planning this return since he left.

Next chapter will be the start of the major Harry Potter arc.

Reviews are, as always, welcome.


	24. Chapter 24

Thank you to everyone reading. You keep me going.

Disclaimer: I own neither Harry Potter nor Doctor Who.

* * *

William Lupin paced back and forth, full of nervous energy. The man lazing next to him was watching him through half closed eyes, obviously amused.

"C'mon, Will. Why are you so wound up?" He asked finally. "You've always waxed poetic about her. 'She's brilliant, she's really sweet, she's part of the Pack, I'd do just about anything for her, I miss her so much.' It's almost sickening."

"Oh, shut up, Marcus," Will scowled good naturally. "I _did_ just walk out on her."

"You make it sound like a bad breakup."

"Well… it sort of was."

"But that was years ago, kid. Either she's over it or you're royally screwed."

The nickname annoyed him, as always. "Don't call me kid."

Marcus smirked at him. "Don't call me kid, _sir_," he corrected. Will rolled his eyes.

"You get your new commission and you're already bossing everyone around."

"Better than _deserting_," Marcus shot back. There was some actual anger in that, and Will sighed. He was uncertain enough as it was, he didn't need his friend mad at him as well.

"I promised her, Marc. I swore I'd see her again. Besides, I didn't plan on staying here. I got a taste of what was out there; I want to see more. I'm ready to get off planet."

"Then why'd you go to the Academy anyways?"

Will shrugged. "I wanted to learn that stuff."

Marcus sighed. "You better get your head out of the clouds, kid."

Will opened his mouth to reply that Marc could get his head out of a different place entirely, but he was interrupted. Marcus looked up too, starting. He gaped for a moment, then turned to Will.

"It's _real_."

"Of course it's real, Marc. I don't make _everything_ up."

"Coulda fooled me," Marcus muttered too low to hear. Then again, with Will's hearing he probably heard it. It seemed he had, especially if his unamused glance was anything to go by.

But they were both rather preoccupied, so the barb went unanswered. Will smiled proudly at the ship docking in front of them. "That's the TARDIS, Marc. Time And Relative Dimension In Space. Best damn ship in the universe."

"And she's mine," a voice responded. In front of them the blue paneled doors swung back and a head poked out. "But thanks for the compliment. She appreciates it."

"Doctor." Will saluted. The Doctor looked him over with a calculating eye. Will had made sure not to wear his uniform for that specific reason. That said, he still had his his standard issue pistol in its holster on his belt - it had been pressed into him long ago to _never go anywhere without it_. He was sure the Doctor didn't appreciate that.

He didn't. Not that he would voice it aloud - his _look_ directed at the object in question was enough. But otherwise… Will looked good. Older, of course, but better fed than last time they had met and more built up. More confident as well. It seemed he had managed to take to the Arkanian lifestyle. The Doctor also noticed, with faint amusement, that he had gotten a tattoo on the inside of his arm. After his brief glance the Doctor looked up to meet his eyes. "I believe there's someone you want to see?"

Will grinned at that. "I believe so."

"Hurt her again and I'll skin you alive," the Doctor warned him cheerfully. "Luna!"

She stepped forward, and Will moved forward on instinct, sweeping her into a hug. Luna squeaked. "Will!"

He put her down, stepping back to get a look at her. Her jeans were scorched, her top rather dusty. Wherever they had been before had given them a bit of trouble, it seemed. Tucked behind her ear was a stick, though Will couldn't tell if it was metal or wood - it seemed to be a bit of both. She had grown up too, turned from his cute little sister into a teenager, and he was left with the feeling that he had been cheated (though, in all fairness, _he _had been the one to take off when he did). Her hair was shorter than it had been, and pulled back. But she was still Luna. The wolf inside him barked happily. "Hey, little Moon."

"You called back."

"Course I did," Will replied in mock hurt. "I promised, didn't I?"

"Yeah, but…"

"You're part of the pack, kiddo. There was never a question about me calling back."

She smiled. "You grew up."

"So did you. I don't remember giving you permission."

"Ah-ah - you left. You don't get a say after that."

"Whatever you say, little Moon."

"I'm not that little anymore."

"Oh, you'll always be little to me. Even when you're upwards 300-years-old and come back to visit me in retirement, you'll be my little Moon."

Luna stuck out her tongue. "What have you been doing?"

"Er… joined the Planetary Region Academy for Trainee Starpilots, got a degree in Engineering, left PRATS… Met Marcus here at some point. Be careful, he's a bit crazy. High ranking and crazy, but crazy nonetheless."

"Oi," Marcus protested good naturally. "Nice to meet you Miss Luna. This sap is always going on about you."

"Gee, thanks Marc. Sully my good name, why don't you?"

Luna watched their banter in amusement. He had grown up it seemed, but not much. It suited him.

"Oh, wait, sorry" the Doctor muttered before retreating and poking his head back into the TARDIS. "Astrid, are you coming?"

"Sorry," a voice drifted forward from inside the ship. A moment later a young woman in a serving girl's dress stepped out. Marcus cut off the banter immediately, choosing to turn his attention to the newcomer. Will smirked. "Hello," the girl said. "Astrid Peth, nice to meet you." She held out a hand.

"Hel-lo, Miss Peth," Marcus replied, standing up and accepting her hand. "Marcus Berrard, Officer with the Arkon Defense Fleet. Nice to meet you." He kissed her hand and she blushed.

"Oh, hello. Does that mean you've been… out there?" she gestured to the sky above them. Marcus grinned.

"It does indeed. I've been to every other planet in the System," he boasted.

"That's amazing. This is my second trip to another planet, but I've always wanted to see one."

"Well then, what say I show you around, Miss Peth?"

"Really? You would?"

"Of course. Will, bring your friends along. We can all go."

* * *

Two days later and three fifths of the group was itching to leave. Which was slightly surprising, but Astrid Peth actually wanted to stay.

"I do want to see the universe," she told them as they stood outside the TARDIS. "But… I think that can wait. I'm going to start small. Marcus has offered to help me get settled. Thank you for everything, Doctor, but I want to stay."

"Well then," the Doctor replied, running a hand through his hair. "Alright. Um… thanks, I suppose."

"Bye, Astrid," Luna said with a smile. "Behave." That was directed at Marcus.

Will's goodbye was the longest, as he was saying farewell to his buddy from the Academy, his roommate, his best friend. With one last playful warning to Astrid at Marcus' expense he entered the TARDIS, the other two behind him.

"They'll be fine," Luna told Will as he watched the door close sadly. "They'll hook up in a few weeks and then they'll never leave each other. Their first child will be named John and their second William. They'll live well into their old ages, have numerous grandchildren, and get a planet named after them."

Will blinked. "Thanks."

"Of course."

"So," the Doctor said into the silence. "Where do you want to go? The seventeen moons of Moomala? Mars circa 4434 - that's by the Martian calendar, by the way. Oh, I know, we could go to Metebelox Six; it's a sister planet to Metebelis Three. I regenerated after a fiasco on Metebelis Three, have I told you? Sarah was there; we had a bit of trouble with spiders…"

"If you don't mind," Will interrupted, "I'd like to go see Arkon circa 1233. Supposedly it was amazing."

"Ah, yes. The flourishing Empire of the Twelve Kings. That _is_ a sight to see. Luna?"

"Why not?" she replied, and then they were off again. Just like old times.

* * *

_A few months later…_

"I should have known," Luna panted, "that the only reason they started worshiping medicine had something to do with you, Dad."

"In all fairness, it was you who saved them," the Doctor protested, setting the TARDIS to float in the Vortex.

"I don't understand why being honored in a ceremony of thanks is such a bad thing," Will said, leaning against the door.

"Well… in the Metti Galaxy during the four centuries of the Pengun Dynasty, the ceremony of Honor and Thanks was a complex series of rehearsed events that normally ended with whoever was being thanked getting burned alive and eaten by the populace. It was said that their skills could be shared that way.

"That's… a little disturbing," Will responded, looking ill. The Doctor shrugged.

"Don't tell them that. Their judicial system is worse."

"I don't want to know."

"No, you don't," Luna agreed. "Where are we going now, Dad?"

"I thought I'd just put her on random," he answered, pressing buttons. "See where she wants us to go, where we're needed, all that. Everyone hold on, who knows where we'll end up. Allons-y!" A flick of a button and they were clinging to the console. Or, rather, Will was clinging to the console while the other two managed to keep their balance, something that probably had to do with their different physiques, along with years (or, in the Doctor's case, centuries) of practice.

A sudden sharp jolt had both hanging on next to Will.

"Is that supposed to happen?" the engineer asked over the groan of the ship.

"Erm… If I said maybe would you say I was lying?" the Doctor offered.

"I would, yes," Luna replied for him. Then she clarified.

"Okay then," Will shrugged. Next to him the Doctor struggled to press a few buttons, but the ship tilted sharply again, tossing him over the jump seat.

"Luna, can you hit the decelerator and the neuron flow switch? Then set the whatchamacallit to .007."

"I'm pretty sure that this was not part of the TARDIS flight training course," she replied, doing as he said.

"It's good for you," the Doctor replied. Luna grew pensive for a moment.

"That's what he would say."

"Oh. Sorry, Lunette."

Luna shook it off. "It's fine." Will looked between the two in confusion, for a moment hating himself for having left. It had become obvious that he had missed more than just a few years of travel with the duo. Before he could ask there was a large _thump_ and the TARDIS landed.

"Here we are," the Doctor said needlessly, hopping up. Will pulled himself to his feet as well while Luna fiddled with a few more controls. The Doctor noticed. "Luna?"

"There's a strange energy field out there, I can't place it. I'm locking the TARDIS down just in case. We don't want her floating off into the Gobaga Cluster again."

"Fair enough," the Doctor nodded, slinging on his coat. "Shall we?" The glint in his eye was contagious.

"We shall."

"Ladies first," Will offered with a bow. Luna shook her head at him but exited anyways. Will followed her. The Doctor stepped out last.

And nearly ran over Will, who was almost on top of Luna. Both were staring at the man behind the desk before them, Will in distrustful amazement and Luna in wary interest. The man looked at the three of them and their box as if it were completely normal - indeed, he seemed to be expecting it.

"Hello, Mr. Smith. I suppose this is your daughter then? Your wife said I could expect you and here you are. Don't worry, the paperwork is all in order. She's ready to start school in the fall, fifth year isn't it?" He smiled serenely behind half-moon spectacles. "It's not exactly normal, but it's not the first time we've had transfer students at Hogwarts."

* * *

The Doctor was rendered momentarily speechless, which was quite a feat. Luna had only ever seen her dad speechless on two occasions. Once when he had become mute, and the second time when… well, they didn't talk about that. Of course, she was feeling just about the same. A general sort of 'What?' that she couldn't fully process. The Doctor recovered first.

"My… _wife_ came to see you?" He briefly entertained asking 'which one' but that would have been needlessly messy and half of them weren't even capable of contacting Earth.

"Why yes, didn't you know? A lovely thing, if you don't mind me saying. You're a lucky man, Mr. Smith."

"Er… Yes, I suppose. Um… If you don't mind me asking, what year is this?"

Dumbledore favored him with an amused smile. "1995. She did warn me you might ask some peculiar questions. Oh, but I haven't introduced myself yet, how silly of me. Albus Dumbledore, headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry."

"Yes, we know who you are," the Doctor replied, half paying attention as he shook the man's hand. "My wife, did you say?"

Dumbledore looked faintly bemused. "Yes, Janice. Quite a lovely name, too. She was by just last week. Here, she signed everything." The headmaster handed the Doctor a stack of papers, and as he flipped through he could see that there were indeed a number of papers that had been signed off on, by someone he had never heard of. Something from his future, perhaps? She seemed to know about his tendency to not know when they were. There was a question there, and he always did enjoy figuring out a puzzle.

Luna was not as excited. There was something going on that felt off to her. She had been to Hogwarts before, but something was different this time, something in the shadows, staring at her and her father, a puppet master in the dark. The gold was tinted black. But there was also Dad, and Will, and friends-to-come, and she could see Sirius again...

Oh. Sirius. He would be older now. Much older. So sad. So trapped. Sad, trapped Sirius. Too young, too old. It made her nostalgic. And sad.

But she couldn't think about that now, there were other things to focus on. Like Dumbledore. She had never met the famous wizard, only seen him from afar at meals during her last stint at the wizarding school. She had the chance to actually look at him now, to see what Time made of him, see what sort of person he was behind the formidable beard. The answer surprised her.

Old. Frayed. Powerful but slow, past his time. Benevolent, pacifist to a fault. Wanting to stay in his office with his candy and students, who he really did care for. A puppet. And in the dark, that malevolent shadow pulling the strings. Which meant… but how did that work? Wasn't Albus Dumbledore one of the greatest wizards of the 20th century? Yet he was so… harmless. He didn't want to hurt anyone in any way. How did that happen? He was willing to sit back and let others deal with it, but wouldn't set anyone up. Which meant… someone else was. So many puzzles already. What fun.

"Well, it all looks real enough," the Doctor muttered, sharing a look with Luna that was a very distinct mix of 'what?' and 'this is a problem.'

"Indeed," Dumbledore agreed. "Now, generally we sort students at the Welcome feast, but your wife made note that you dislike drawing attention, isn't that right?"

Will snorted, and Luna shot him a look. "That's right," the Doctor agreed, hiding amusement. "Not that it ever works like that," he added under his breath. Will snorted again. Luna bit back a smirk.

Dumbledore plowed on, oblivious to the interruptions. "In that case we can sort you now, Miss Smith, and have everything set up by the time term starts." He stood up slowly and moved over to a stand by his desk where a moth eaten, raggedy old hat sat. As Dumbledore picked it up, however, a rip near it's brim opened and it started to speak. No one was surprised.

"That time already, Albus?" the hat asked. Dumbledore smiled serenely.

"Not quite, my friend. A transfer student who has requested an early sorting. Here, Miss Smith, just put it on and don't be afraid."

Luna didn't bother telling him she wasn't and instead dutifully placed the hat on her head. Instantly she could feel it brushing through her mind.

_Why, hello again, Miss Etoile. This is unexpected._

_Yes, we feel the same,_ Luna responded politely.

_So, back again,_ the hat mused. _I must say, I am a rather big fan of time travel. Always so interesting to see them later. Or alternate dimensions, that's fun as well._

_Oh, you've met people from other dimensions? I've always wanted to but Dad is adamant that it will blow a hole in the fabric of reality._

_Depends on the form of transport, Miss Etoile. Except it's Smith now, isn't it?_

_If you don't mind, Mr. Hat._

_Mmm…_ the hat replied, falling silent for a moment. _I see you've got proper shields this time._

_Yes, I had to learn rather quickly._ Luna replied, emotion coloring her voice faintly.

_I'm very sorry about that. But you did know what was going to happen._

That amused Luna. _I see the future, don't I?_

_It will come in handy no doubt,_ the hat replied dryly. _But the question right now is where to put you._

_I was in Ravenclaw last time,_ Luna reminded him. The hat waved it off. Or, had it hands it would have.

_Yes, I remember. That was obvious then, you wanted to know everything. But you're a different person now. _The hat paused again. _Is there any house you particularly want to be in?_

Luna was quiet for a moment, aware of the tangled timelines stretching into the future. Something was coming, as she had once told someone very dear to her, there was a shadow flying over them.

_Put me where I can do the most good,_ she requested.

_In that case, _the hat mused, _I think you'd do best in _GRYFFINDOR_._

_Thank you,_ Luna replied, pulling the hat off. _I hope we don't have to do this again._

_Me too, Miss Smith, me too._ She carefully returned it to its stand, then turned. Dumbledore was looking proudly benevolent (however that worked), Will was smiling slightly, and the Doctor looked like he'd really like to take it apart and figure out exactly how the hat worked. Luna caught his eye and shook her head. He pouted.

"Very well, my girl," the headmaster said. "I'll pass along a letter to the Gryffindor fifth year prefects and have the house elves set up a bed in the dorm. Make sure you buy all your supplies - here's a list - and the train leaves at eleven am sharp on September first from platform nine and three quarters, don't miss it. The ticket is in with the supply list."

"Thank you, Professor," Luna responded dutifully, accepting the envelope handed to her.

"I will see you at the feast, Miss Smith," the old wizard replied. It was clearly a dismissal, and Will was the first one back in the TARDIS. Luna made to follow, but the Doctor hung back.

"I'll be right there," he promised. "Go ahead." Luna shrugged and followed Will into the TARDIS. As promised, within five minutes the Doctor was joining them with a slightly worrying smile on his face. Luna asked a wordless question. He shrugged innocently. Luna frowned. The Doctor smiled a knowing smile.

"Who's Janice?" Will asked, interrupting their silent conversation. The Doctor rubbed the back of his head.

"I don't know," he replied honestly. "I haven't heard of her, not yet at least. Luna?"

The girl shrugged, staring off at the timelines. "Someone who will be important."

"Right. So, mysterious woman pretending to be my wife and enrolling Luna in Hogwarts. And somehow brought the TARDIS here; this wasn't her original course. We could, of course, leave…" the Doctor mused. "It might be a threat. It would be safer to leave… just not show up… Don't fall into the trap…" Each phrase was spoken more slowly, another reason not to go. He looked at Will and Luna. They looked back. Luna raised an eyebrow. The Doctor shrugged.

"I don't believe you for a second," Will told him. The Doctor looked sheepish.

"Me neither. Allons-y!" The TARDIS catapulted into the vortex, shook violently, and stopped.

"What was that?" Luna asked. The Doctor checked the readings.

"We're stuck," he said in shock.

"Stuck?" echoed Will.

"On the linear timeline. We can't go forwards or back."

"But we can still travel around, right?"

"Oh, sure. Anywhere in the universe. As long as it's the present."

"So we'll rent a room at the Leaky Cauldron or something," Will responded with a shrug. The Doctor nodded, preoccupied, and reset the coordinates. As the TARDIS took off again he met Luna's worried look with one of his own and she shivered. Something was happening, and she had the feeling that it might take a while to sort out.

* * *

Reviews are, as always, welcome.


	25. Chapter 25

Disclaimer: I own neither Harry Potter nor Doctor Who.

* * *

Harry Potter scowled at the surrounding pedestrians as he was essentially smuggled into King's Cross Station. Along with his contingent of Order members, Sirius was pressed against his side, sniffing just about everything and growling at anyone who got too close. Harry sighed. Bloody war. Bloody Voldemort. Bloody press. Bloody everything.

So busy was he with mulling over his summer in the Order-prison he almost ran over Sirius when the large dog stopped short in front of him.

"Oof. Si- Snuffles, what's up?" He hastily corrected himself. The animagus didn't respond. Harry looked down at the dog, who was staring at something across the station from them. What was he looking at? Muggles wove around them, and Moody was starting to get annoyed. "Snuffles, c'mon, you're drawing attention."

Sirius still didn't more. Puzzled he looked up, following his godfather's gaze. There was a man in a large coat, was that what he was looking at? Next to him was a younger man, and both were talking adamantly. Next to them a girl holding a beat-up looking trunk was looking around the station. Harry frowned. Were they who he was looking at?

Sirius' tail began to wag softly, and Harry looked from the strange threesome of a family back to Sirius, then to the family again. The girl was unfamiliar. Someone Sirius had met, perhaps? Or maybe she was a threat. In which case, why was Sirius so happy to see her? A moment later, as if feeling his gaze, the girl looked up. Then her gaze flicked down to Sirius.

A smile split her face. Harry watched surprised as Sirius suddenly barked and bounded forwards, getting lost in the crowd. A moment later the girl handed her trunk to the young man and ran off after him. Behind him Harry heard Moody curse the man and prod him towards the platform where everyone else was already waiting. Harry craned his head to try to see what in the name of Merlin had just happened, but both were gone. The man in the coat caught his eye over the crowd and winked. Then, as if by magic, he too disappeared, leaving Harry staring out in confusion at the ocean of people ebbing and flowing around him.

Moody prodded him in the back with a scowl. "Get a move on, laddie, the dog'll show up soon." Harry nodded hesitantly and stepped through the barrier, muggle London disappearing behind him.

* * *

Luna walked though King's Cross Station. Next to her Will and the Doctor were discussing colonization of the Forgotten Corner, an Earth colony that had become separated from the rest of the 25th century colonization project after they fell of the radar of the project and got caught up in a civil war. She smiled faintly at them, hefted the heavy trunk she was carrying, and looked around. The station had definitely changed since she had visited last, though it was just as busy. The little humans, going about their lives. Muggles paying no attention to the strangely dressed men and women hurrying into a brick wall. Wizards going about their business, ignoring the crowd around them while stepping out into another world just for a day.

She frowned, feeling someone's eyes on her. Turning slightly she caught sigh of a boy with a distinctive signature in the gold frowning at her in confusion. He was nearly blinding with all the timelines connecting to his: practically the entire wizarding world. She frowned back. Then she caught sight of the dog by his side, a giant black animal, standing still in the middle of the station. Her eyes lit up.

It was _him_. She knew it was him, she could see his past wrapped up around him. He barked once, though she couldn't hear it, and ran off. Luna turned to Will and pressed her trunk into his hand.

"Hold this, please," she ordered before running off. Will blinked.

"What was that?" he asked the Doctor.

"How should I know?" the alien replied. He looked out into the crowd though, and winked. Then he grabbed Will's arm and let them get swept up by the crowd.

* * *

Sirius slipped into an empty side waiting room, transforming from dog to man in one smooth motion. A moment later the door opened behind him. He turned.

_Merlin. She's so young._ Her eyes were still old though, just like they had been last time.

"Sirius," she said. He cracked a smile.

"Luna."

There was a moment of silence while they just looked at each other. Luna sighed internally. He seemed so old. The years had not been kind to him. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be," he responded instantly.

Another beat of awkward silence.

"You grew up."

"So did you."

"You more so."

"True."

Pause.

"It's strange."

"Yeah." Silence. "I'm not-"

"It's-"

They cut themselves off. Sirius waved at her to go first.

"It- It's good to see you again." Good to see you're surviving. Good to see you're safe.

A wry smile twisted his lip. "It's good to see you too, Luna."

The silence tensed, snapped. Luna moved forward, wrapping the man in a hug. It was almost a parody of their old embrace. A warped reunion, too early and too late. They had missed each other.

But Sirius was alive and safe and Luna was strong and happy and they weren't going to let Time's sense of irony ruin their golden friendship. Behind her eyes a life flashed, an entirely different timeline, and she squashed it ruthlessly. It was too late now. It would always be too late.

"Why are you here?" Sirius asked as they parted. "There's a war on."

"I know, I can feel it. He's back," Luna replied, sitting down on a bench. "It's in the timestreams. But I don't really know what's happening. Ending up here was an accident, we're unprepared. I've only been able to get my hands on the information put out by the Ministry."

"Yes. You-Know-Who's back. He's lying low for now, and almost no one will believe it. Fudge is dead set against believing it. He's blocking us at every turn."

"Us?"

"The Order of the Phoenix. Dumbledore's vigilante group. I can't tell you who's in it, matter of security, but it's small. Very small. We're fighting the Ministry along with the Dark Lord."

"Not for long," Luna responded vaguely. "The truth will come out within a year. No, before you ask - I don't know how."

"That's good. We'll need the support it'll garner."

"Yes, you will," Luna agreed. "Oh, look at the time. It's nearly eleven, we should go." Sirius looked up and nodded. In a blink of an eye where he had once stood was a giant black dog. Luna scratched him behind the ears. "C'mon, Padfoot. People will be waiting."

* * *

The Doctor kept half an eye on the entrance to the platform, waiting for Luna to come through. The other eye and a half were put to use ogling the train. It was quite lovely, an old steam engine that, as far as he could tell, was running off magic. He could feel his sonic burning in his pocket, begging to be used, but he doubted Luna - or anyone else, for that matter - would appreciate it very much.

"There she is," Will muttered to him. The Doctor turned to see the girl fighting her way towards them. "See someone?" the werewolf asked. Luna nodded and smiled.

"An old friend who grew up. He confirmed what's happening here."

"Voldemort," the Doctor said.

Luna nodded. "And the Ministry. There's a group trying to fight, but they're facing opposition from every side."

The Doctor nodded slowly. "I think I might have a word with Dumbledore. For now, stay sharp. And try not to do anything I wouldn't?"

"That's not very restricting, Dad," Luna replied with a somewhat sardonic smile. The Doctor shrugged.

"Here's your trunk," Will changed the subject, handing her said object. Luna took it.

"See you at Christmas?" she asked. He rubbed the back of his head awkwardly.

"Actually… I'm going to try to find my brother. I overheard those people over there," he pointed towards the group Sirius was with, "mention his name. I'd like to see him again. It's been a while."

"Alright," Luna said simply. Will looked worried.

"You sure? I'm sort of abandoning you again…"

"Will," Luna interrupted. "I'm a big girl now. I can handle it. Besides, he's your brother. How could I say no?"

Will smiled. "Thanks, little Moon."

Luna waved off his hand as he ruffled her hair. "You're going to make me late."

"Then what are you waiting for? Get on the train," he responded, shoving her playfully. Luna stuck out her tongue and turned to her dad.

"It'll be okay," she said to him. He raised an eyebrow.

"Is that you or your sight?"

"Oh, me. I don't think I want to look for real," she told him. The Doctor smiled for a moment. Then he became serious.

"Good. I don't want you becoming dependent on that."

"Me neither. But it's not just that; it's going to be dark and harsh and bloody. I'm not sure I want to see it." He hugged her briefly. "I'll see you at Christmas?"

"Or before," he replied. "Don't miss your train."

Luna frowned and gave him a look. He blocked her mentally. She scowled. He grinned. "It's a good surprise."

"That worries me." The train whistle blew and Luna jumped. "Bye Dad. Bye Will."

"Bye little Moon."

"Bye Lunette."

As she stepped onto the train the two waved briefly. Luna spared a moment to wave back, left her trunk with the rest of the luggage, then wandered down the aisle, looking for an empty compartment. She found one halfway down the train and stepped inside, hefting her bookbag up onto the rack above the seats, though not before pulling out a book - _Psionic Science of Sixteenth Century Samelli Seers_ - and settled down.

Half a chapter later the door slid open. It was the boy Sirius had been with, the one with the interwoven timestream. With him was a redhead girl and a boy with a cactus. "Hey," he said. "Can we sit here?"

"Go ahead." She watched them while they sat down. "You're Harry Potter," she told him bluntly.

"Erm, yeah," he replied. "You're the girl who was with Sirius."

"Yes, I am," she agreed. The redhead looked between them.

"How do you know him?" Harry asked.

"I met him when I was younger," she answered vaguely. "Our timelines keep crossing." Harry blinked.

"Er, okay." There was a beat of uncertain silence. "If you don't mind me asking, who are you?"

"Luna Smith." She was met with blank looks. "I'm new."

"Welcome to Hogwarts," the redhead jumped in. "Ginny Weasley."

"Neville Longbottom," the boy with the cactus said. Luna looked closer at the cactus.

"Is that a mimblus mimbletonia?" she asked, peering at it. The boy was surprised.

"Yeah, yeah it is. How d'you know about them?"

"The Marcox grow them. They harvest the pus and use it to grease their joints."

"Marcox?" Ginny asked.

"A species with really long crab-like legs made out of metal." Everyone stared at her. She went back to her book. After a few moments the three started up a conversation. Luna listened with half an ear.

Nearly an hour later the door opened again. "Excuse me? Has anyone seen- oh, hello Harry, Ginny, Neville. Have any of you seen the new Gryffindor- oh, there you are. Luna Smith, right? Professor Dumbledore asked me to help you settle in."

"Yes, that's me," Luna said, looking up. "Hello."

"Hello," the girl replied, offering a hand. "Hermione Granger, Gryffindor prefect. Welcome to Hogwarts." She poked her head out the door. "Ron, I've found her."

"Finally," a voice echoed back, and another redhead joined Hermione in the compartment. "Oh, hi guys."

"Hey Ron."

"Hello."

"Ron Weasley," Ginny introduced. "My brother. Ron, this is Luna Smith."

"Nice to meet you," Ron said. Luna smiled faintly.

"Likewise." Then she went back to reading. Hermione sat down across from her.

"I'm sorry to interrupt, but… that's not English, is it?" the prefect was referring to the book Luna was reading. Luna looked down at it.

"No, it's New Samellian. My Dad bought it from a Velzvooth librarian."

That piqued Hermione's attention. "You've meet a Velzvooth?"

Luna stared at her. "You know what a Velzvooth is?"

Hermione shrugged sheepishly. "My parents are dentists, but my Uncle Marc works for UNIT."

Luna grinned. "That's brilliant. Maybe I'll meet him one day. Or maybe I already have."

Hermione nudged her. "So how did you meet a Velzvooth?"

"My Dad and I travel a lot. We helped him out of a spot of trouble and he gave us the book as a thank you."

"That's amazing. I've always wanted to meet one; supposedly their one of the most knowledgeable races in the galaxy. UNIT has loads of files on them."

"So Hermione's probably read them all," Ginny muttered. "Hang on, what's UNIT?"

"Unified Intelligence Taskforce," Luna and Hermione answered together, sharing a smile. "They're an international taskforce that deals with aliens," Hermione explained.

"Aliens?" Harry echoed.

"Hold on – you believe in aliens, Hermione?" Ron sounded incredulous.

"Honestly, Ron, there's plenty of proof that aliens exist and have been coming to Earth since the middle ages."

"Earlier," Luna said. "There were a couple of Venusians at the Battle of Hastings."

"Really? How d'you know?"

"My Dad and I travel a lot," she responded as if it answered everything. Which it did.

"Hey Luna?" Neville interrupted quietly. "What's that behind your ear?"

"My wand."

"How can that be your wand?" Ginny asked. "It's not made of wood."

"It's sonic."

Hermione this time. "Your wand is sonic?"

Luna nodded. "I made it myself."

"You _made_ your own wand?"

"Why not?"

"That's pretty high level magic," Neville noted. "How did you know how?"

"There was a lot of fiddling and a few minor explosions and few accidents. Took me four years," she stated proudly.

"That's _really_ dangerous, building your own wand." Hermione seemed both extremely interested and disapproving. Ron rolled his eyes behind her back.

"Yes, it is."

Hermione opened her mouth, then shut it again. "So, if it's sonic it can work with both technology and magic, right?" she finally asked. Harry frowned.

"I thought muggle technology didn't work around magic."

"Normal muggle tech isn't compatible," Hermione agreed. "So how does it work?"

"The sonic siphons its energy from ambient energy and since the wave enhancer is part of the magical core I can exchange the energy transfer through the fluid link to either the sonic base or the core to select different functions, or both of them. For a while any magic would set of the sonic and vice versa but then Dad helped me figure out how to isolate the switch key. Over time I've enhanced the modulator and redrew the runes so now both work perfectly together or separate."

Only Hermione seemed to follow that, and for the rest of the train ride Hermione went between milking Luna for information and arguing with Ron. Luna went back to her book. Harry spent most of the ride staring out the window. Ginny and Neville talked about who the new defense teacher would be - apparently they went through them yearly. About midway through a game of exploding snap broke out and everyone joined in, laughing like the teenagers they were.

* * *

Students pulled robes on as they approached the station. It was getting dark and clouds were moving in. Ginny looked up at the sky and frowned.

"I hope it doesn't rain on us."

"It won't," Luna answered off-handedly. Ginny looked at her.

"C'mon, let's find a carriage," Ron grumbled. "I'm hungry."

"You're always hungry, Ronald," Hermione retorted.

"I can't help it! I'm a growing boy."

"Five gallons they get together by the end of this year," Ginny whispered conspiratorially. Luna looked at them cocked her head.

"End of next year."

"Done."

"Done." They shook on it. "They'll make a cute couple."

"Yes they will."

Luna turned towards Harry and stopped. "Harry?"

He was staring at something behind them. Luna followed his line of sight. Another carriage was coming towards them, a carriage pulled by two large, black animals. Thestrals.

"What are they?" he asked, watching them. They were vaguely horse-like, and reptilian at the same time, seemingly made of skin and bone, black wings stretching above them. They drew to a halt in front of the group, snuffling softly. Harry reached out a hand to gently touch one. It stamped a sharp hoof.

"What are what?" Ron asked.

"These things pulling the carriages."

"There's nothing there, Harry," Hermione said softly, worried. "The carriages pull themselves remember?"

"They're thestrals," Luna answered. "You can only see them if you've seen death."

It was a much more subdued group that entered the carriage.

Hogwarts was just like Luna remembered. People milling about in the courtyard, friends waving to each other over the black mass of students, the gentle flow into the Great Hall. The Hall itself hadn't changed a bit either, only the people inside it had changed. And even then there were some similarities. Dumbledore, McGonagall, Babbling, Flitwick.

"Quite something, isn't it?" Hermione asked. "The ceiling's only enchanted to look like the night sky. It says so in-"

"_Hogwarts, A History_," everyone interrupted. Hermione humphed, settling down in a seat. Luna sat next to her as the Hall filled up.

"Hello," said a voice on her right.

"Haven't seen you round here before," echoed a second. Luna twisted around. Sitting on her other side, identical in every way, were a set of twins who were clearly related to Ginny and Ron.

"Hello," she replied. "Luna Smith, nice to meet you."

"Fred," responded the one next to her.

"George," said the other. "I'm the more handsome one."

"But I have the brains."

"You're the pranksters."

"Look at that, Gred, she knows her stuff."

"She's the new Gryffindor, Forge!"

"Oh, the one Ickle Ronniekins was going on about?"

They both turned to her with a grin. "Pleasure," they chorused. Luna smiled. She liked them already.

"Nice to meet you. Your sister says you're both a bit troublesome."

"A bit?"

"That's an insult to our top-notch pranking ability!" It was hard to keep them straight. It was like one person talking from two mouths.

"Miss Smith, we are _infinitely_ troublesome."

"Trouble is our middle name!"

"No it isn't, Fred."

"Might be a bit confusing," George agreed sadly.

"I'm sure they can't tell you apart anyways."

"Mmm… she's not bad for an amateur, brother mine."

"Indeed, dear twin. Perhaps we could lend her a hand?"

"Perhaps perhaps." They both turned to stare at her. She blinked. They blinked back.

At the back of the hall, Argus Filch shivered suddenly and wondered why.

The staring contest was broken by the doors at the back of the hall opening and the first years filed in. McGonagall stepped forward to meet them, standing next to a ragged old hat. The first years eyed it nervously, the rest of the school waited. The hat stretched, a lopsided rip near the brim splitting into a mouth. Then it sang.

The song was ominous, long, and off-key. Everyone applauded.

While the first years were sorted, Hermione kept up a running commentary on the teachers, school, and students, all interspersed with helpful (ish) comments from the Weasleys and Harry.

"Professor Snape is Head of Slytherin and the Potion's Master-"

"And he's a greasy git. Snape hates everyone in Gryffindor, especially Harry."

"_Professor_ Snape, Ron…"

The hook nosed man was indeed sneering at the group of Gryffindors. Next to him was a woman dressed from head to toe in shocking pink.

"New defense teacher-"

"Merlin's pants, she looks like a toad!"

"Oh no. That's Umbridge, she's in Fudge's pocket." There was a collective groan.

"Flitwick teaches Charms, Babbling is Muggle Studies."

"Bit off her rocker," Fred whispered conspiratorially. "Nice enough though."

"Loves a good prank."

"-Dumbledore, of course-"

"Also off his rocker," Fred said. Luna nodded in agreement.

"-McGonagall's sorting the first years, she's our Head-"

"Don't get on her bad side," Ginny warned.

"Sprout, Herbology."

"Hufflepuff Head, nicest of the bunch."

"Grubbly-Plank, CoMC sub-"

"Where's Hagrid?"

"Order business, I heard-"

"Hope he gets back soon…"

"And- oh, when did he get here?"

"Oh, hey, I recognize him. He was with Luna at King's Cross."

They all turned to look at Luna. Luna shrugged and waved at the man, the exceedingly familiar man with porcupine hair and a brown pinstripe suit. The man waved back, grinning cheekily.

"Well… Who is he?" Hermione pressed.

"John Smith. Better known as the Doctor. My Dad." Exasperated amusement laced her voice. It was a very him thing to do, show up at Hogwarts as a professor. And it explained why he had been so excited and secretive.

"Did we just here-"

"-this lovely flower-"

"-say that the new teacher-"

"-is her daddy?"

The redheads next to her turned, grinning. Ron sighed. "Leave her alone, guys. She's new."

"Don't worry, Ronnie-"

"-we've already met-"

"-your brand new friend-"

"-and plan-"

"-to corrupt her!"

Ron groaned.

"That's my father, yes," Luna answered, watching Ron bury his head in his hands in amusement.

"What's he like?" Hermione asked.

"Scatterbrained genius. I had no idea he was teaching."

"What, he didn't tell you?" mumbled Ron through his hands.

"He tends to enjoy spur of the moment decisions."

"What's he teaching?" Harry asked, mildly interested. Luna could only shrug.

Then Dumbledore stood up and everyone was paying attention to him. He looked over the mass of students, smiling serenely at all the faces turned up towards him. It was a troublesome time, and his continued staunch presence in the midst of it all was calming, despite rumors that he was losing it. He was Albus Dumbledore. They couldn't help but trust him.

He could never thank the gods enough for granting him the position to help all those children, to watch them grow into the powerful young people who were the future of their world. It was a dark future, but he was certain they would pull together and come through. It was a rare moment of clarity, standing before them, that he realized it.

"Welcome," he called out to them, eyes sweeping. There was Harry, the boy with too much weight on his shoulders, and his friends. All the seventh years, whom he would miss. Yes, even those twins. Cho Chang, bless her, sitting amongst her friends. A few first year Slytherins who looked distinctly uncomfortable in their house. Maybe finally they'd reach out and befriend someone else. Draco, poor young Draco, pressed into being someone he wasn't really. A second year Lion discreetly putting something in a friends goblet; maybe the twins wouldn't get the first prank that year. Each and every student special in their own way, regardless of their factions, their friends, their enemies. All gathered together to learn and better themselves, no matter how much they grumbled. Hogwarts was truly a wonderful place. "Welcome, one and all.

"These are dark times approaching. Please, do not let the whispers of rumors and stories turn you away from one another. I fear we will all need to work together, now more than ever." Normally he refrained from blatant anti-Ministry propaganda, but it was true. And after all, he was only echoing the Hat. "No matter what is happening out there, here inside Hogwarts you may be protected.

"But that is a lecture for another time. I'm sure you are all waiting for the delicious feast that has been prepped for us. Before you are all too full to listen, I have a few announcements. First, the Forbidden Forest, is, as its name suggests, forbidden. Second, there is an extensive list of banned items that may be found on Mr. Filch's door, which includes, among other things, dungbombs, fizzing wizzbees, and anything created by a certain set of twins." His eyes twinkled down at said redheads, who were faking innocence very well, and if he could have winked he would have. That just wouldn't be professional though.

"There are, in addition, a few staffing changes. First, Professor Grubbly-Plank is filling in for Professor Hagrid as he is currently indisposed. Second, please welcome our new Defense Against the Dark Arts professor, Ms. Delores Umbridge." Whereas Grubbly-Plank had received a rather nice round of applause, Umbridge had a few scattered claps that died down almost instantly. Swathed head to toe in pink and beaming sickeningly at them all, everyone was more than a little put off. Fred and George shared a Look. Luna poked Fred.

"She's on the list, right?" she asked. The twins nodded as one.

"And third, due to suddenly winning the lottery, Professor Sinstra has retired and moved to Italy. In her place I would like you to welcome our new Astronomy teacher, Professor John Smith." Luna applauded particularly enthusiastically as he stood up, grinning at the assembled students before sitting again. "Now, as I don't wish t-"

"Hem hem."

Shock. Everyone's reaction was shock. Because for the first time that anyone present could remember - and that included the professors sitting at the head table - someone had interrupted the Headmaster during his speech. The toad woman, however, just smiled. She stood up, pink cardigan glowing at the front of the hall.

"Thank you, Professor Dumbledore, for those kind words of welcome." Even her voice was sickly, like sugared honey - much too sweet and a trap for any poor insect that got too close. "And how lovely it is to see all your little faces smiling up at me! I'm sure we'll all be very good friends."

"Yeah right," the twins muttered. Nods of agreement went around. Umbridge cleared her throat again.

"The Ministry of Magic has always considered the education of young witches and wizards of vital important. The rare gifts with which you were born…" As the toad continued to speak, Luna stared off into space, catching a few clear phrases. "…Progress for progress's sake must be discouraged… changes for the better… errors in judgement… treasure trove of magical knowledge must be replenished, guarded, and polished…" It went on and on, and in no time at all everyone was whispering, fidgeting, tuning her out. Well, almost everyone. Hermione was paying close attention, mouth twisted as each rehearsed, too-sweet word fell from the toad's mouth. The teachers were also listening carefully, and Luna caught McGonagall and Sprout sharing a look. She was listening herself, though only with half an ear. Still, it was easy to understand what the woman was saying. She shared a look with her dad. He didn't like her already. That could be entertaining. For half a second she felt just the littlest bit bad for Umbridge. But it passed.

"…Into a new era of openness, effectiveness, and accountability, intent on preserving what ought to be preserved, perfecting what needs to be perfecting, and pruning wherever we find practices that ought to be prohibited."

She sat down. There was the faintest smattering of applause, but most students hadn't realized the speech was over until Dumbledore started speaking again.

"Well," said the old man. "That was illuminating. As I was saying - let the feast begin!"

With the customary wave of his hand, food appeared and everyone tucked in.

"That certainly was illuminating," Hermione echoed, reaching for the mashed potatoes. Harry frowned.

"Sounded like a load of waffle to me."

"Waffle with bits in it. Maybe a blueberry waffle," Luna mused, trying the pumpkin juice. "Or chocolate chip."

Hermione started at her. "Um, yeah." Then back to Harry. "Were you paying any attention to what she was saying? 'Progress for progress's sake must be discouraged'? 'pruning what ought to be prohibited'?"

"What does it mean?" asked Harry.

"It means the Ministry is going to be interfering with Hogwarts," Hermione said ominously.

"I'll tell you what I don't get," Ron broke in, swallowing a bite of chicken. "What was with the Sorting Hat tonight? It's not typically all forshadow-y like that."

"Forshadow-y isn't a word, Ron," Hermione told him.

"You know what I mean," he scowled. "Ominous. It was talking about inter-House unity and danger and all that. 'We must unite inside her/or crumble from within'? 'The warning history shows/For our Hogwarts is in danger/From external deadly foes'? It's a hat."

Hermione looked appreciative, as if she couldn't believe he could remember all of that. Or maybe she didn't believe he had known what ominous meant. "It lives in Dumbledore's office. It's bound to pick up things."

"Like Voldemort being back," Harry muttered, scowling up at Umbridge

"Yeah. But still, inter-House unity?" Ron scoffed. "Sure. I bet the Slytherins'll be all over that."

"Yeah, me and Malfoy'll be best friends," Harry smirked, looking at a blond boy in silver and green who looked about as excited about the hat's song as they were.

"Well if you don't bother _trying_…" Hermione grumbled.

On Luna's other side the twins had their heads bent close together, whispering quickly. Luna had the feeling she knew what they were talking about. As for herself, she ate quietly, listening to the conversations around her. Most of the conversation was about school, or what people had done over their summers. There was a little venom directed at Harry Potter, and the faintest whispers about You-Know-Who. Up at the staff table the Doctor was deep in conversation with Grubbly-Plank, though every so often his eyes would flicker towards Umbridge.

"So, Luna." Fred interrupted her silent observations.

"Hmm?"

"Where are you from-" his twin picked up.

"-And what brings you to our wonderful school?"

Luna shrugged. "I don't know."

"What, no death in the family-"

"-expelled-"

"-mass murderer-"

"-sudden job change-"

"-on the run from authorities-"

"-or yearning to meet wonderful people-"

"-true jokesters after the spirit of the Marauders-"

"-like ourselves?"

Luna smiled at their antics. "No. It was set up."

"A set up!"

"A nefarious plot to separate you from everyone you know and love!"

"Weakening you!"

"Leaving you alone!"

"Unprotected!"

"In a new world-"

"-on the cusp of war!" It was like watching a tennis game as they went back and forth, each trying to one-up the other. They reminded her of Maple and Ash, the twins she'd grown up with on the street.

"Quite possibly," Luna agreed.

"Tell us all about this plot," Fred pressed, munching a buttered roll.

"Why are you interested?"

"Think of it as… a resume," George offered. "Or something."

Fred latched on. "We'll teach you all we know," he promised solemnly. George nodded along.

"You're that eager?" Nods again. Well, why not? There was something surprisingly trustworthy about the pranksters. "Fair enough. We accidentally showed up here last week and Dumbledore said he'd been expecting us. Apparently someone neither of us have heard of posed as my mother so she could enroll me but now we're stuck…" Thus began a fruitful friendship.

* * *

Reviews are, as always, welcome.


	26. Chapter 26

Disclaimer: I own neither Harry Potter nor Doctor Who.

* * *

When Luna wandered into the Great Hall on the first day of class, people were neon. Robes had changed colors from their more subdued chromatic scheme of black and house-color to eye-watering bright shades of green, orange, yellow, and blue respectively. As she passed under the mantel of the double doors her robes changed too, flashing orange to match the rest of her house. She spared a moment to admire her new uniform before sliding into an open seat at the Gryffindor table.

"Well done," she said to the person on her right. Fred Weasley grinned innocently.

"We have no idea what you're talking about."

"You're not implying that _we_ had anything to do with this, are you?" George asked with mock indignation, chugging his coffee.

"I'm not implying it, I'm stating it," Luna corrected, reaching for a piece of toast. "It's okay, I won't tell."

"It's a welcome present for Umbridge," Fred said.

"She looked like she could do with some cheering up," George agreed.

"So we decided-"

"-a little color-"

"-could brighten her day." The two grinned in tandem, cheeky smiles that reminded Luna of her father's.

Her father who was, at that time, sitting at the head table, looking around the hall with a wry smile of appreciation. A mug of tea sat at his elbow. McGonagall, sitting further down, was also surveying the hall with well-hidden amusement, as were most of the teachers. Except Umbridge - the toad-like woman was frowning primly at the brightly colored mass that was the student body and eating her porridge with jerky little movements.

"How long will it last?" Luna asked idly, watching two Hufflepuff second years walk in and pause in shock. George looked sheepish.

"We… don't actually know. We had some trouble with the timing aspect of it…"

"Anyways," Fred waved off, pouring himself another cup of coffee. "If at first you don't succeed, prank everyone again for good measure."

* * *

As it turned out, it only lasted twenty-four hours, so the first day of school was one of brightly colored robes and then everything went back to normal, or at least what passed for normal at Hogwarts.

That particular day Luna had Care of Magical Creatures, Charms, and Potions. By the end of the day she was certain that her father would adore CoMC, Professor Snape hated everyone but was infinitely complex and therefore one of the most interesting people she'd ever met, and Flitwick was just as excitable and squeaky as she remembered. The class content itself was also somewhat interesting. It was nice to be learning new things in class.

The next day passed similarly, with double Transfiguration in the morning and Herbology and Defense in the afternoon. Herbology was fun. The plants were easy enough to work with, Neville made a wonderful partner - he seemed to know even more than she did about the plants in the greenhouse – and Professor Sprout was endlessly cheery.

Defense was a blow-off class, which was unsurprising but too bad. Umbridge couldn't teach and had no wish to, practicals were banned until OWLs time rolled around in the spring and the book they were reading out of was outdated and boring as heck. Luna flipped through it in the first five minutes of class and spent the rest of the time going back and forth disproving the author's theory on defensive magic and finishing her potion's homework. Except for Harry's row with Umbridge about Voldemort being back and earning a week of detention, nothing happened.

Wednesday started with History of Magic, which was taught by a ghost and the lecture was straight from the textbook. Luna put her time to more valuable use trouncing Ron at hangman and doing her Charms homework.

After that was Divination. Trelawney didn't like her, and Luna didn't really have to guess to work out why (showing off to a half-mad elder seer probably hadn't been a good idea, but everyone had enjoyed the spectacle). Luna felt sorry for the woman. She had a gift, but she pushed it too hard. Teaching Divination was pointless anyways: if you didn't have the skills, there was nothing you could do. Also, the homework assignment of a year-long dream diary was... well.

Astronomy was late that night. After the sun had set and the stars came out the class gathered up in the highest tower. Telescopes sat at the back wall and windows made up the classroom walls, allowing the stars to twinkle through. Sitting in a corner of the classroom was an unassuming blue box that very few people seemed to actually take notice of. Up at the front stood the Doctor, brainy specs perched on his nose and grinning at everyone as they walked in. Once the entire class was gathered he rubbed his hands together and looked over them.

"Right. Hello, I'm your new Professor, John Smith. Call me Doctor, please. Professor Smith sounds so… stuffy. Ooh, yes, you there with the hand."

"What are you a doctor of, Prof- Doctor?" Hermione asked.

"Oh, this and that," he waved off. "Now. You're all here to learn about the stars." He pulled out his sonic screwdriver, buzzing it at the roof so that it slowly disappeared, leaving them open to the sky. "Someone tell me - what do you see? Don't worry, there isn't a right or wrong answer."

Tentative hands rose around the room.

"Yes, you, Mr-?"

"Thomas, Dean Thomas. I see Venus."

"Mmm, yes, Venus is particularly bright. I'm sure the centaurs are excited. Who else? You there, Mr-?"

"Terry Boot. It's outer space."

"Well, yes. You, with the hand, Miss…"

"Granger. I see the expected constellations for the late summer sky."

"Yes, yes. But, besides the figures you've been taught to pick out… what do you _see_?"

"The moon," called someone. The Doctor appreciated the cheeky response.

"Yes, true."

"I see the future."

"Ooh, that's good. Deep. Who was that?"

A Ravenclaw ducked her head. "Padma Patil, Professor."

"Doctor," the Doctor corrected. "Yes. What else do you see? Hmm? Anyone?"

"The past?" Harry called out. The Doctor nodded.

"Technically, yes, due to the magnitude of empty space and the speed light is able to reach. Next?"

Hermione raised a hand tentatively. "Yes, Miss Granger?"

"Alien contact," she offered. The Doctor nodded again while the class looked confused.

"Undoubtedly, of course. What else? What else do you see in the stars? What else could be up there?"

"Space travel," Dean Thomas called out.

"Divination," Lavender Brown said.

"Threats?" another student called out.

"Questions?" Ron tried. The Doctor gave him an encouraging nod.

"Possibilities," Harry muttered dryly.

"Good. Good job. Everyone who answered take five points." He looked over them. "Astronomy is an ancient practice. Beings all over the universe look up into space and imagine. It's all up there over your heads. The stars you see here from your planet you can see from hundreds of other planets. Full of mysteries and possibilities.

"It's good to know what stars are which, of course, but that's only a tiny part of it. Drawing pictures in the sky is an important part of any history, but there's much more to know."

"Hold on," Paravati Patil interrupted. "Are you saying you believe in extra-terrestrials and stuff like that?"

The Doctor found that amusing. "Aliens, yes."

"So… are we going to be studying them? Aliens?" she queried.

"That would be xenobiology," the Doctor corrected. "We may get into it next term, but for now we'll stick with stars. I expect you all know the basics, so we'll start with a bit of a quiz to see what you know. No, don't be like that. Five points for each correct answer and I'll start easy. See that bright one there? Who knows it's name? Miss Granger?"

"That's Venus, Doctor. It's a planet."

"Yes it is. Good. Very good. Okay, how about that one…"

* * *

Luna hung back after class, letting everyone wander out before walking up to the front of the class. The Doctor looked up at her and grinned.

"Well?"

"It was a good start."

"They're not a bad bunch," the Doctor agreed appreciatively. "Just need to open their minds a bit. Those Slytherins… now that's a tough class."

"Mmm."

"So. How have classes been?"

"Very easy."

"You seem to be fitting in better this time."

"I can control myself this time."

"True, true…"

"What is it?"

He looked thoughtful. "I've been thinking about Janice."

_Oh. "_And?"

"I don't think it's me."

"Me neither. I spent this afternoon in the library. Apparently this 'Janice' has never existed before now."

"You think she wants us," the Doctor said. Luna shrugged.

"I think she wants me here."

The Doctor was pensive behind steepled hands. "Just… be careful, Luna."

"I will, Dad. Don't worry."

* * *

Reviews are, as always, welcome.


	27. Chapter 27

Disclaimer: I own neither Harry Potter nor Doctor Who.

* * *

Luna ran into Hermione after class. The bookworm was waiting outside the classroom. As Luna came out she fell into step with her new friend.

"Your dad is really cool. Bit strange, but cool."

Luna grinned. "Thank you. I was a little surprised by the class, actually."

"Oh?"

"Normally it's much harder to get him to stop talking. He rambles on and on about everything."

"Well, I like him. I haven't seen any teacher here keep a classes attention like that since Lupin."

Luna paused for a moment. "Since who?"

"Professor Lupin, he was our DADA prof my third year. Why?"

Luna continued walking, smiling. "I know a Lupin. An old friend of mine. I knew his brother taught here, but I didn't know when."

That bit brought Hermione up short. "Professor Lupin has a brother?"

Luna nodded. "His name's Will. I've known him since I was six."

"How did you meet him? What's he like? Did he mention Professor Lupin? Did he go to Hogwarts?"

Luna waited quietly while Hermione snapped off questions, waiting for her to finish before answering. "I met him when I ran away from home-"

"You ran away from home?" Hermione interrupted. Luna grinned slightly - the twins had promised that would be her response. "To where? At age six?"

"London," Luna nodded. "I-"

"London?" Hermione broke in again, waking a nearby paining. Lowering her voice slightly she scolded, "That's really dangerous, especially for a little girl."

"I wasn't alone," Luna responded, smiling fondly at the memories. "There was Kash and her little brother and Will and the twins… I wonder how they're doing…"

"But… still," Hermione pouted.

"I'm fine today, aren't I?" Luna asked. "It happened years ago, Hermione. I don't know why you would care."

"Well, yes, I suppose, but sill…" The bookworm pouted for a moment more, then perked up again. "So tell me about Professor Lupin's brother."

"Well, his name is Will…"

* * *

In another part of the castle, far away from the chatting girls, and the lions in their den, and the snakes in the dungeon, and the eagles in their eerie, and the badgers safe and warm in their nest, and the redheads booby-trapping the janitor's office, someone watched over the school. Situated high in a tower, kindly blue eyes stared over the ancient place of learning. It wasn't the eyes' owner who was looking, though. Hidden deep in the castle, far from everyone, another person stared with the headmaster's gaze. The old man's eyes twinkled on, unaware, while in his shadow his puppet-master pulled his strings. For now she watched, seeing the bonds form, learning where to snap them for the right response. Laying plans, plans upon plans, quick dirty schemes and twisting ropes of cunning. She was a spider in her web, waiting for her fly to get comfortable before coming out and snapping it up. After all, the fun was in the chase, the scheming. Isolate the little fly, pull off it's wings, it's antennae, it's legs. Leave it wriggling alone in the dark. Then finish it off.

That was the way she liked to do it. Catch her prey in that web of its own making. Anything else was just a bonus.

* * *

School quickly fell into a pattern. Class, homework, chess with Ron (Luna was one of the only people who could beat him), discussions on Runic theory with Hermione, "presents" for Umbridge with the Weasley twins. Listen to Harry sulk. Visit her dad in the astronomy tower and talk particle physics of the fifty-sixth century. Go to quidditch games. Read the news over Hermione's shoulder and shake her head in disappointment at the stories. Midway through September she found out that the Quibbler, Xeno's magazine, was still publishing and she started reading that (half of which was surprisingly accurate and the other half of which was just completely made up – the trick was distinguishing between the fact and fiction of the publication). And, of course, she kept half an ear out for information on Janice.

Her favorite classes were Charms and Potions. Her least favorite was DADA, but by the beginning of October most of the student body agreed it didn't actually count as a class anymore.

Though Umbridge did provide some entertainment, especially when she got into her first entanglement with Luna's dad. It had been around dinner time, meaning the majority of the student body was either in the great hall or milling around outside the double doors. Luna and the Doctor were headed towards dinner, discussing politics on Arkon with Hermione, when a knot of Slytherin's caught the Doctor's attention.

"One moment," he said, waving the girls ahead. "There's something I want to check on."

Luna quirked an eyebrow in question but continued on, attempting to explain the job of the Minister of the Exterior if they already had a completely separate External Affairs office. The Doctor stepped away from the duo, moving towards the group of students. He could catch snippets of the conversation - "give it to us," "watch out," "teach you a lesson." When he got close enough, the astronomy professor could see that the sixth year snakes were gathered around a first year 'puff, completely surrounding the girl. The Doctor cleared his throat, and everyone looked up.

"Excuse me," he interrupted with a smile. "But I don't believe you need to be harassing this girl."

The Slytherins looked around at each other. "She owes us something," one of the boys blustered.

"And what would that be?"

"Ah… er…" He looked to his friends for help, but they weren't particularly helpful.

"I see," the Doctor agreed, voice cooling. "Ten points from Slytherin for bullying."

"You can't do that," a skinny, scowling girl protested. "We haven't done anything." The yet was implied.

"You're threatening a fellow student. Keep it up and it'll be a detention." He fixed them with a hard stare. "Now leave."

"Now, Professor Smith," a voice rang up behind them. "I do think perhaps you're being hasty."

The Doctor bit back a grimace. "I don't see how, Professor Umbridge," he replied just as sweetly. He turned to fix her with an upraised eyebrow.

"They were merely conversing with the younger student. Surely that is no grounds for loss of points."

"They were threatening her and it won't be tolerated," he countered to Umbridge. Then he turned back to the sixth years. "Leave."

They left.

Umbridge, however, hovered for a moment, looking disapprovingly up her nose, however that worked. "Professor Smith," she began softly. "I am a Ministry official and I will not have anyone disrupting the enactment of Ministry's ideals for what Hogwarts shall be, no matter who they are or where they're from. Keep to yourself and I'm sure everything will be fine."

"I don't think you know me very well, Dolores Umbridge. I don't like bullies and I don't like liars. Of any kind. That is your warning. I can make your life very difficult if I want to. Don't try me."

Umbridge started at him for a moment, then with a twist of her plump little body scuttled off. The Doctor let out a sigh, then looked down as there was a tug at his sleeve. The little Hufflepuff girl was still there, staring up at him with awed eyes.

"Thank you, Doctor," she muttered shyly. The Doctor grinned down at her.

"Of course. And – I'm sorry, I should know but I'm just terrible with faces – what was your name?"

"Lia," she answered. "Lia Cornus."

"Well, Lia Coruns, I'm sure you're hungry. Off you go. And if you ever need anything, I'm here."

"Yes, Professor. Thank you." The girl scampered off, a little more confident than before.

Luna detached herself from the wall where she had been watching and joined her dad.

"I don't like her," the Doctor said bluntly.

"She's harmless," Luna responded. "She has no real power, and when she does the students will keep her from doing too much damage." She paused. "Don't alienate her too much, or she might get rid of you."

"I'll try," he promised, staring after the woman.

"That's the best you can do," Luna reasoned. "I'm hungry. I hear it's soup tonight..."

* * *

"I am _not_ going in there."

"Why not?"

"Luna, are you crazy?"

"It's McGonagall's office."

"Even we're not that crazy."

"She won't catch you."

"Look, Luna, we know you're good with that seer-y stuff-"

"-really good-"

"-but it's still McGonagall's office-"

"-and no one goes in there-"

"-unless she wants them there." The twins shrugged in tandem. "Sorry."

Luna's fingers tapped at the wall, the other hand sketching in the air. "If you two go in you have five minutes to set the prank and get out. She won't find you and she won't be able to pin it on you. If I go in she'll come back early and we'll all get caught. If we all go in the floor will cave in and the Ravenclaw common room will get attacked by pixies. That's just how it works."

"But Luna…" Fred whined.

"But Fred…" she mimicked. "C'mon. I'll keep an eye out." They still made no move. "Is McGonagall to big a target for you?"

That did the trick. "No one's too big a target for us," George declared. "Let's go, Fred."

His "But George!" was lost as the redhead dragged his twin into the room. Luna loitered in the hall, counting down the time and watching the prank unfold in the gold with every portion the twins put in place. She smiled to herself, dreamy.

"I like it more this time."

* * *

_"I like it more this time."_

Deep in the bowels of the castle, a creature nodded to itself and began its move.

* * *

"You're what?"

"I told Dumbledore, just in case, but it'll only be a few days. Brigadier called - have you met him yet? I'll have to introduce you - and he needs a quick hand. Silurians or slitheen or something."

"Dad, you can't run off in the middle of class."

"I have a sub," he protested. "Besides, he's an old friend. A very old friend. It's been, oh… a couple hundred years. I haven't seen him since the War."

"Oh. Sorry." Luna fiddled with the inkwell in her hands. "Well then, I'll see you soon?"

"Of course you will, Lunette. I'm not going to up and leave you. I promise."

"It's just… I have a bad feeling about it."

"I'll be extra careful then. But I'm not even leaving the timestream, okay? I'll be back by Monday, I promise. And if you can't get a hold of me, Will's with the Order."

"Right. Well then. Goodbye, Dad."

"I'll tell Brigadier you say hello."

The door closed with a click behind him, and Luna squinted against the wind. She stayed until it had died down, after the TARDIS and her father had left, before turning down the stairs and returning to her friends.

* * *

Reviews are, as always, welcome.


	28. Chapter 28

I apologize for the delay, but I've finished NaNoWriMo in the meantime.

Disclaimer: I own neither Harry Potter nor Doctor Who.

* * *

The first day was fine. And the second, and the third. When Monday morning rolled around and the Doctor still hadn't returned, Luna started to wonder if maybe it was a bigger deal than he'd made it out to be.

By the time the week had passed and Dumbledore had hired a stand-in astronomy teacher, she moved on to low-level worry. What-ifs ran circles in her mind. It wasn't helped by the faded bond they had: she could barely feel him, just enough to know he was alive. So she walked around in half-present panic.

Not that she let any of it show, of course. Hermione would ask and she'd just wave it off with a smile. He's on an extended trip. He's looking for an artifact in East Asia. He's checking in on my third cousin twice removed, who has dragon pox. Still, in the quiet privacy of her mind she fretted, trying to calm herself by casting around into the future. She could only see so far before hitting an impenetrable mass of hundreds of thousands of events, fixed points running around and into each other, and he wasn't there, and that was what really set Luna on edge. It seemed, for all intents and purposes, that he had simply disappeared.

Fred and George knew that she was a bit more worried than she let on, being the attentive tricksters they were. They didn't press though, instead pulling her into their pranks. The number of tricks played skyrocketed as the twins kept her occupied. Conversely, her grades fell. Not that she cared much, because she absorbed the material like a sponge and wouldn't be staying long anyways. Even if Dad didn't return, she'd go find Jack or Sarah Jane and get some help. It might take some explaining but she was sure they would understand. One didn't travel with the Doctor without developing a more relaxed attitude towards time and causality.

She started closing herself off, though, and Hermione began to drift away. With her went Ginny, Harry, Ron, and a majority of her year-mates. Fred and George introduced her to the rest of the seventh years, but most of them were busy either celebrating their last year at school or working to pass their NEWTs. Where once she had companionship from the house in a general sense, now few people went out of their way to talk to her. She might have worried about it, except she was too busying worrying about her father to be bothered by social cues.

Then, three weeks after Monday, Will sent an owl. It was three words._ He's been trapped._

And if that wasn't ominous, Luna was an adipose.

It relaxed her though. Or, well, not relaxed her (because her father, the Doctor, was _trapped_ Rassilon-knows-where, and she was stuck Hogwarts with so many secrets and no backup and that most certainly was _not _relaxing), but gave her a sense of purpose and helped steer her away from her mounting freak out. This had obviously been planned out, because it was rather difficult to keep the Doctor from his daughter for such a long period of time. Even the Master hadn't managed it, not really.

To look at it logically, there was a very short list of points to go over. Her enrollment had been planned. 'Janice' had set up her enrollment. After Janice had enrolled her, something (or someone) had trapped the Doctor. Janice was the only real clue she had.

Therefore it was time to find out, properly, who Janice was.

* * *

After a week and a few rewrites, armed with an address from Dumbledore, Luna had a letter for Janice. It wasn't the best plan, but she had nothing to go on so it would have to do.

_Where is he?_

It wasn't particularly subtle (okay, it wasn't even a little bit subtle). But she didn't want subtle. She wanted answers.

An answer arrived surprisingly quickly. Luna squashed the urge to tear it open immediately and instead slipped away to read it in the privacy of an abandoned fourth floor classroom. Had the writer been speaking, sugary-sweet sarcasm would have colored every word.

_Darling,_

_I've been waiting to hear from you. I'm so glad to know you're getting a proper education. No more of that traveling around that mad man. He's held up on his trip; he won't be back for a while._

_You're well traveled; I'm sure you've heard of the philosophy 'once you have happiness it will be taken away.' I live by it myself. Be careful of what you say, darling. The walls have ears and eyes._

_If you ever need me, I'm right here._

_Mummy_

Luna shivered. _I'm right here_. There was something menacing in that false show of support. Janice didn't mean she was right there in a caring, motherly way, she meant it literally. She was _right there_, watching her. Always watching, the eyes in the dark, and Luna shivered again.

After that, she was always checking over her shoulder. Hermione tried to get her to talk, but she brushed the bookworm off apologetically, knowing it wasn't really too complicated for her friend but unwilling to drag the girl into the mess. When Luna refused to tell Fred and George what was going on they actually nicked the letter, read it, and were suddenly following her everywhere, a bookend set of bodyguards that came with their own jokes and pranking advice. Actually, they did very well on the pranking front, hitting everyone and disappearing. Luna's special talent keeping them out of trouble if not out of suspicion.

And then she messed up. It wasn't anything major, not that time (a firstie 'Puff, the same one who her dad had stood up for weeks previous, had seen them. Luckily, her silence had been bought with a bit of peanut butter candy). Still, it was the first time Luna had ever missed something in the gold, _ever_, and it scared her. It scared her more than she wanted to admit, because without her dad there she relied on her gift, on her foreknowledge. It obviously shook Fred and George too, because they spared no time after the incident making sure she was all right. She fended them off for a while, but in the end they were having none of it, instead marching her into an empty classroom.

"Guys, what are you- Fred, let go, I'm going to be late for potions."

"You haven't gone to potions all week, Lu," George pointed out as he closed the door behind them. "Besides, you're only missing Snape."

"Greasy git wouldn't teach you anything new."

"You could brew half those potions with your eyes closed."

"Besides-"

"-this is much more important."

Being the middle of winter, the classroom was drafty, and Luna pulled her cloak tighter around herself in an uncharacteristic gesture of discomfort. Both noticed it and frowned. She had once explained to them that things like cold and heat didn't bother her too much. As far as they were concerned, it was just another sign that something wasn't right.

They wouldn't be far off. "What is it?" Luna asked, yielding to them.

"We were hoping to ask you the same thing."

"Something's up, Lu."

"Besides just your dad."

"So spill."

Luna giggled. They wanted to know what was up? Oh, there was so much. Eyes, always watching her. Dozens of eyes, staring, staring, waiting. She shivered again, but this time it wasn't from cold.

"Nightmares," she said finally.

"Nightmares," Fred replied, deadpan.

"Or daymares, maybe, if those exist." She shrugged, far away. "Or maybe I'm just going crazy."

"Care to elaborate?"

"I'm being watched. Everywhere I go I can feel them. Eyes, everywhere, staring at me out of the dark. Waiting eyes."

They were pensive. "Waiting for what?"

Her shrug was careless. "Who knows? The eyes do, but I don't." It all fell in a moment as she became solemn, worried again. "Dad would know, wouldn't he? But Dad isn't here, the eyes have them, they told me so. You saw so, in my letter."

George nodded slowly and Fred glanced over his shoulder in discomfort, almost feeling the eyes for a moment.

"You know we won't let anything touch you, right?"

Luna smiled faintly at them. Everywhere she went, always someone to look out for her. Will, Jack, Martha, Sarah Jane, the Master (just a little bit in his own horribly convoluted way), now the twins. And Dad, but he was gone, far away. He was trapped. Who was going to help him when he was trapped? Will, maybe.

She pulled her focus back to the twins. "I know."

"Good." It was final, but it wasn't done yet, not really. They all ignored that, though, and instead Fred grinned at her and said, "So, were you actually going to go to potions?"

"Or would you rather have a spot of fun?"

"The toad needs a poke."

"We've been far too easy on her lately."

"What d'you say?"

And of course she said yes, because that woman was always just asking for it and because it was delightfully normal and, for a little while, it made the eyes go away.

* * *

The next morning the other shoe dropped.

Or rather, the newspaper dropped, straight into her lap, along with a letter. She would have read the letter, because it was the first she had received since the mysterious threat from Janice, but the story that caught her eye in the paper was much more interesting. Or frightening. Take your pick.

_Lost Daughter of Xenophilius Lovegood Found, pg 6_

And, unable to help herself (and terrified, utterly terrified of what it would say, and for once thankful that she showed up in the Great Hall so early because almost no one else was there to stare at her or read the paper) she flipped to that page and started reading.

_In a startling turn of events, it has been discovered that the long lost daughter of Xenophilius Lovegood, well-known editor-in-chief of The Quibbler, was rediscovered at Hogwarts School Of Witchcraft and Wizardry._

_This reporter was surprised, to say the least, when late Wednesday night a note from an anonymous source claiming that transfer student Luna Etoile is in fact Luna Lovegood, step-daughter of the slightly eccentric editor, was left at the Daily Prophet office. After days of research, this reporter found the tip to be true._

_The story of Xenophilius Lovegood and his family is a one stalked by sorrow and loss. Cira Asis' marriage to Lovegood was her second marriage, after the death of her first husband and Luna's biological father, a muggle by the name of Charles Etoile. The widowed Mrs. Etoile remarried her old school friend not long after. The small family lived in happiness until Cira Lovegood died a year later in a dreadful potions accident._

_That is where Luna Lovegood falls out of the picture. Mr. Lovegood, distraught over his wife's death, did not realize the child had not come home until a day after her disappearance. By that time the girl was long gone, presumed dead. Imagine this reporter's surprise when she was reported alive, and attending Hogwarts!_

_It is undeniable that this new student, Luna Etoile, is the same Luna Lovegood who vanished mysteriously nearly ten years ago. The similarities between her and her deceased mother are uncanny. But this news brings to light new questions – where has she been for all these years? Who is the mysterious stand-in father, a man who appeared out of nowhere with Mr. Lovegood's (now presumed kidnapped) daughter? And where has he gone? This man, 'John Smith' (a pseudonym?), vanished over month ago and has yet to be seen since._

_One thing is certain, however. Mr. Lovegood, in his own words, is "overjoyed to see [his] pumpkin again and cannot wait to get her back." We wish the best of luck to Mr. Lovegood and his daughter as they reunite after so many years apart._

_Report by Emma Burlington_

_Related stories_

_Hogwart's Getting An Inquisitor pg 14_

_Dumbledore Hiring Hacks? pg 21_

Luna stared at the paper after she finished reading. Who had leaked that? She had promised herself once, early in her days as a London street rat, that nothing was going to send her back to that place, because all that was left were memories of her mother and a depressed drunk. And yet here was an article, proclaiming everything for the world to see. Who had leaked it? Why? How could anyone…

It took her a moment to realize that there was still a letter to be read, and she ripped it open quickly.

_Darling,_

_I know you love your Daddy very much, but he's not really your father, you must know that. I hope you've seen the news by now. It's all right, sugar plum, you'll be back where you belong soon enough._

_Lots of love, _

_Mummy_

Luna crumpled the note and stuffed it in a pocket. She did not want to deal with that, not now, not on top of her father's disappearance and her gift's sudden fallibility and the feeling that she was being watched. As people began to trickle in to the Great Hall she left, not wanting to have to deal with them, not wanting to see them after they read the short article. She did not want to be there anymore.

But really, where could she go?

* * *

Luna expected the summons from the headmaster, though she had been hoping she would get more time. Actually, she had _seen_ she would have a little more time. Except she didn't, because while sitting in the very back of her first class of the day, Transfiguration (she had arrived late enough that no one was able to interrogate her, though she could feel stares directed at her as she pretend to focus on the assignment) a student came in with a note. McGonagall read it over, looked at her, and announced, "Miss Lovegood, the headmaster would like to see you."

And if the new name made her eyes sting (because really, after her dad was gone, and the gold wasn't working right, her connection to Daddy and Mum was the only thing she had left) she didn't show it. Instead she calmly packed her bag and exited the classroom, feeling hot eyes on her all the way out the door. The hallway was blessedly quiet and empty and Luna used the walk to brace herself for whatever was coming next.

She didn't know the password to the headmaster's office, but the gargoyle who guarded it sprang aside as she approached. The staircase up rose with a groan, and then she was at the door. She knocked once, and Dumbledore's voice rang from within.

"Enter."

Inside was just as she remembered, so she didn't bother looking around. The headmaster was sitting behind his desk, looking at her over the top of half-moon glasses. A plain wooden chair was settled in front of his desk, a chair he gestured to now.

"Please, sit down Miss. Lovegood."

"Please don't call me that, Professor."

His gaze turned pensive. "It is your name, Miss Lovegood. I do hope you'll excuse me, I took the liberty of writing your, ah… of writing Mrs. Smith. She told me about everything."

Warning bells and eyes in the dark. "What did she tell you?"

"Miss Lovegood, I am aware that you have experienced many negative actions at the hands of Mr. Smith. I promise my utmost confidentiality on the subject and we will work as quickly as we can to find him and dispense justice."

Dispense justice? "You think that he-"

"I will not press you for details. I do understand the discomfort you may feel in recounting such actions."

She felt sick. Janice had said, had told him that her father, that the Doctor… "Dad hasn't done anything to me but care for me and teach me," she said quietly, almost quivering with anger. "I don't know what Janice has told you, but it is certainly a lie."

There was pity in his eyes, and it did nothing to assuage her anger. "Miss Lovegood-"

"_Don't_ call me that."

"Miss Lovegood, you are safe here. Mr. Smith is far away and we will make sure he doesn't return. He will not harm you again. You should be proud of your stand-in mother, Miss Lovegood. What she did was selfless. Not many would be willing to risk an abusive man to care for a little girl. You are very lucky to have her looking after you."

"Professor, I swear to you, Dad never did anything to me. Ever. He took me in when there was no one else to look after me. I wouldn't rather have any adoptive father but him. He… he gets me. He helps me."

"What you are experiencing is sometimes known as Stockholm Syndrome, an affinity for one's kidnapper or torturer. I can assure you, he is not a nice person."

"What? No, Professor, I-"

He held up a hand and spoke over her. "It will all be dealt with, child. Janice has explained her wish for you to return to your rightful father, and I find I agree with her. It will be best for you to return to a loving father who has missed you." She opened her mouth to argue, to tell him no, please no, and Xeno was a drunk anyways, but he stopped her again. "I will hear no more of it. The paperwork is being dealt with as we speak. You will spend Christmas with him as per your, ah… as per Janice's orders. Please do not continue to fight this, Miss Lovegood. If you feel you need to speak with someone, Madame Promfry is always available to talk, as am I. You are dismissed."

Luna picked up her bag silently and left the office. She walked past her transfiguration class, which was still in session. She walked past the great hall, past the entrance hall, past the courtyard until she reached the lake. There was no snow on the ground yet; instead everything was wet and foggy freezing. She ignored it, staring out at the flat gray expanse of water as it disappeared into the blanket of cloud.

She couldn't. She just… couldn't. How had that happened? She didn't want to go back to Xeno, she couldn't go back to Xeno. When had everything spiraled out of control?

And where was her dad? Where was the Doctor in all this? What had Janice done to him? Why did she care about them in the first place? What had Luna done to her to deserve this careful, organized destruction of her life?

But none of those questions had answers. All she had was the wet, and the cold, and the fog, and the loneliness, and she was so tiny against it all. It wasn't the first time she had been a target, nor the first time the Doctor had been horribly, frighteningly absent, but it was the first time it had happened together, when she was no more powerful than any other girl, half-alien or not, and they were going to send her _back_, she realized suddenly. They thought the Doctor had kidnapped her, had hurt her. Even if he did return, they'd try him and lock him away for the amusement of Janice, for the eyes in the dark.

The tears stung against her numb face.

* * *

Reviews are, as always, welcome.


	29. Chapter 29

Disclaimer: I own neither Harry Potter nor Doctor Who.

* * *

When Fred and George found her it was late afternoon, and she was numb. Numb and heavy, but finished crying, finished being sad and hopeless and helpless. She was angry, a quiet, simmering anger that warmed her up, that guided her thoughts with crystal clarity. Janice, Dumbledore, Xeno, Dad, a complete circle, again and again, seeing the connections. Not in the gold - that was dim, gone almost completely, the most disturbing (and yes, terrifying) part of it all. No, she planned in her own mind, the mind of a half-Time Lady with a score to settle.

And, if Janice had known that, she would have been the terrified one.

As it was, though, Janice didn't know. As far as she was concerned, she had won that round, and Luna had to concede the victory. She could run, of course, but she didn't want to run. She wanted to find Janice and find out _why_. She was curious, a dark sort of curiosity that left a glint in her eye and cleared room around her. Yes. Something would be done. Not now, but soon.

Soon.

* * *

Except it wasn't soon, because it was the end of term and there were exams and the Weasleys had left early citing a family crisis and Luna was stuck on a train, shipped away to Xeno Lovegood's house and a life she had left long ago. She sat alone. Not technically – a few of her Gryffindor year-mates were chatting right next to her – but inside her mind she had cut herself off from everything, buried herself in thoughts and ideas and a little fear and more than a little anger, all wrapped in a projected calm that kept the innocent (_clueless, all so clueless_) children from interrupting her. They eyed her and ignored her. The Hogwarts Express chugged on.

It was past noon when they arrived. The station was busy, nearly as busy as it had been at the start of the term. Parents and their children milled around. Students waved goodbyes and hellos, parents eyed friends and wrapped sons and daughters in hugs. Luna navigated it carefully, one eye on everyone around her and the other looking for an unforgettable shock of pale hair. She easily wound her way through the teeming mass. And then she froze, because there he was.

She saw him first. Standing at the very back of the platform, pressed against a well-worn wall of red brick that had long-since faded to brown. His off-white hair and multicolored robe stood out clearly against the dull wall, shifting every time he twisted his head back and forth. He looked ragged; his eyes darted quickly, almost afraid to stay staring at one person for too long. He was not happy to be there: it was easy to read in his body language if you knew where to look. It had not been his choice. Luna' filed away that little tidbit, then straightened and slipped through the crowd towards him.

"Xeno."

He jumped and wet his lips nervously. "Ah. Hello again, kumquat." Seven years gone and he still had those nicknames. "It's been a while."

There was really nothing to say to that. Rather, there was too much to say to that, so Luna just nodded and spared herself the trouble of finding an answer. Xeno wet his lips again.

"Shall we go now? We're, ah, taking the Knight Bus…" She stayed silent as he trailed off and followed him into Muggle London. Their silence continued throughout the trip to Xeno's home. Every once in a while he glanced over at her and wet his lips or opened his mouth, but neither of them actually spoke. It wasn't that Luna was against talking to him (he was most likely her best way into Janice's mind, in the figurative sense), she just didn't know what to say. What do you talk about with your estranged, superseded legal guardian that you ran away from over seven years before?

It wasn't until they reached the house - the Rook, Cira had once called it, because it reminded her of a rook on a chess board - that either of them spoke again.

"It looks exactly the same." Well, that wasn't quite true - Xeno had let the garden go, though there were a few floating plums that looked like they had been pruned within the last few months. Besides that, though, Cira's once-neat vegetable gardens looked like they hadn't been looked after in… well, since she died. Luna swallowed past a lump in her throat. That was a long time ago, and her nightmares had long since passed. She didn't need to recall them now.

"Ah, yes." Xeno bobbed his head, birdlike. He had passed her and was fiddling with the door while Luna stood at the top of the path, staring at it. Memories, all of it. Just memories. A flash of gold and she could actually see it, silver-eyed little girl running back and forth while Mum worked in the garden, carefree. Worn, yes, and too old for her little body, but still a child. Then Luna blinked and it was gone. Xeno turned back to her. "Are you coming in, radish, or are you going to stay out here tonight?" It was a perfectly serious question, and Luna shook her head. He hadn't been like that, not before. Joking and a little lost, yes, but not so… not so gone. Absent completely.

She just smiled, a fake, dreamy, vacant smile for the crazy man. Not mad, not like her father. Just crazy.

"I'm coming."

The door swinging shut behind her was like a death sentence. Luna kept on smiling.

* * *

Her old room had been cleaned up a bit. It was empty except for a rough-hewn wooden bed without sheets and empty bookshelf, but that was fine by her. There were no memories in the fresh furniture. She didn't bother unpacking because there was no reason to. Instead she left her trunk open at the foot of her bed and sat on the floor, eyes closed. The last time she had needed major meditation had been when the Master had held them all prisoner for the Year That Never Was. Funny how once again she was a prisoner, how once again she needed the exercise to focus her thoughts. She had thought it wouldn't be necessary again, not once the gold spread calmly before her. Now, though, it was necessary. So she sank into herself. Xeno was busy downstairs, she could hear him clearly (and smell the alcohol, but she didn't dwell on that). For the first time since Dumbledore had called her up, since Dad had disappeared, there would be no interruptions.

It was sort of like falling. Falling through layers of herself until she reached the core, a golden nebula. But it wasn't a nebula like it should have been (like it had been, before). It was a ball, a solid golden marble, shored up behind dark strands that at first looked like shadows but solidified into a web when she touched them. A spider's web. Ribbons of gold floated through it, but only a few managed to slip through the sticky trap. Luna examined it, careful not to touch. And careful not to panic, because someone had put a _web_ in her _mind_ and she hadn't even noticed. There was a certain tang to it, a signature for her to examine, to become aquatinted with.

The next hours she spent gently coaxing the dark weave to release her golden ribbons, allowing them to coalesce again behind the web, cut off but untouched by the sticky strands. When she surfaced again it was dark out, and she was shaken and nauseous. Xeno didn't notice when she skipped dinner. While she lay on top of the uncovered mattress, he talked to himself downstairs, half of a conversation with people who didn't exist. Luna lay with her eyes open, ghosting by the web every once in a while. Now that she knew it was there it was easy to sense, like a missing tooth. She looked at the signature too, tasting it and feeling it in the back of her mind, memorizing it and trying to connect it with something, anything. She found an echo, ever so faint, in her memories of Dumbledore's office, a thought which unsettled her.

She had noticed, though, hadn't she? _…in the shadows, something pulling the strings… _From the minute she had examined Dumbledore, there had been something wrong about him. Now she could put a name to that something in the shadows. Now she had a connection, a clear connection. Something pulling the strings. In the shadows, eyes in the dark. Connected. Linked without the gold. Janice.

"Her web in my head," she told the ceiling flatly, then in a singsong voice: "Will you walk into my parlor?" She giggled at that, and drifted off with thoughts of spiders and gold webs circling her mind. That was the first night she had the nightmare, the nightmare that wasn't her normal nightmares of Daddy and Mum and the Master and a hundred things between. This nightmare was different, was specific.

It tasted of Janice.

* * *

Very far away, and a week earlier, a man cleared his throat and settled in a chair. Across from him was a desk, and another chair, and in that chair a woman, perfectly coifed and ice cold, smiling with rosy cheeks and golden hair and icy eyes. The man smiled thinly at her.

"Lady Arakne. A pleasure."

"The pleasure is mine, I assure you." Her voice was silk and ice and a hint of some sort of accent.

"I hear you have something you want to discuss. A weapon of some sort?"

"Indeed." She lifted a clear sphere the size of a fist from her pocket. Something spun lazily inside, an image that the man had to peer closely at to see clearly.

"And this is…?"

"An advanced life form," she answered. "Able to withstand more than any humanoid to date. Altered cardiovascular system, increased bone durability, and highly superior mental functions. Also, genetically able to regenerate cells on a massive scale. This specimen is literally able to come back from the dead."

The man's eyes flicked between the image floating the bauble and the woman. "Indeed." His voice was dry with disbelief. The woman bristled.

"I have spent the past decade researching this creature. Believe me, everything I tell you is true. In addition," She fished a manila envelope out of a bag at her feet, "I have a file for you."

The man flipped through it, eyebrows raising ever so slightly. "This is from the muggle government."

"Torchwood, yes. Not strictly under government jurisdiction. They've been keeping their eyes on this one for a while."

"There's another?"

The woman grimaced. "Unfortunately. They're rather protective of each other as well. It's a… father-daughter thing."

"I'm not agreeing to this if there's the possibility that the other one will want revenge."

She waved it off. "Neither are the revenge type. I've sectioned them off from each other anyways. The girl is trapped by your backwards laws and Dumbledore's misguided attempt to help. The man's being held by Torchwood 4. Neither is a threat at the current moment."

The man mulled it over for a moment. "And what exactly do you want from this? It is one sided, and not in your favor."

"Let's just say I have a certain… distaste for them. I'm sure I could think up my own cocktail of revenge, but it's so much sweeter to sit back and watch it happen. I don't like to get my hands dirty."

"Indeed. And why exactly have you come to me with this information?"

"Why, Mister Malfoy, your loyalties of course. I'm sure your Master would love a gift like this. Happy Christmas." She smiled as she rose, and for a moment the firelight fell across her, and her shadow had too many arms. The door swung shut behind her.

Lucius Malfoy stared at the door long after she was gone. Then, certain of his decision, he picked up the bauble and walked to the fireplace.

As the green faded back to crackling flames, the eyes in the dark grinned.

* * *

_Cold metal and dark. Voices, always voices, smooth and rough and dark and airy but always cold, always frightening (but she is not frightened, she will not be frightened). There's one worse than the others, cold and high and hissing that sends shivers down her spine and makes her want to curl into the cold metal, the unyielding metal. But that voice is only their for a moment, a whispered conversation, and then gone._

_She's sleeping (she thinks, because everything is fuzzy and half-there and almost-real) and dreaming; it has the taste of a dream, and Janice, but there's something around the edges that tangs of reality, something she can't touch, can't see. Can't reach. She flinches into the cold metal again, flinches against pricks and lights that she can't see (she can't see, her eyes are closed and she can't open them, but she will not be frightened). There are needles, something in her arm (but she will not cry out), and the scratch of a pen on paper and whispers, voices, always voices, smooth and rough and dark and airy but always cold, always frightening. Voices and dark, and cold metal. She wakes with a jolt._

* * *

Luna woke with a jolt, scrabbling with her sleeve and staring at unmarked skin. Downstairs, a frightened Xenophilius Lovegood showed a spider of silk and ice out the door. Very far away, a man smiled at his reflection with the certainty that his new weapon would win him the war.

Thus, night passed.

* * *

-'Will you walk into my parlor?' is the first line of "The Spider and the Fly," written in 1829 by Mary Howitt.

Reviews are, as always, welcome.


	30. Chapter 30

Disclaimer: I own neither Harry Potter nor Doctor Who.

* * *

_The bird people of Patroclas V are a superstitious culture. They believe in a pantheon of deities, each named for the aspect of existence they portray. Their chief gods are siblings, Fate and Destiny and Chance, who rule over all. They are joined by their sister, Discord, and Love and War of course. But there is also Time, far older than his fellows, and his daughter, Foresight. They come from a story told long ago, from a story told by a wolf-man from a distant planet. There are many tales about their gods, about Chance and Destiny and Fate, about Love and War. But one story is a story about Time and his daughter, a small pale girl they call Foresight, call Prophecy. It is just that - a story, a tale, a fiction - but one must remember that every legend comes from some truth. The story goes something like this:_

_Once, a long time ago, or perhaps a long time from now (because time is never steady; time curves and changes; time is not so much a river as it is an ocean, shifting and changing, filled with currents and eddies and ripples), once, Time – well, let's not get ahead of ourselves._

_Time has a daughter, and she is the most precious thing to him. She is like him in a way that no one, nothing else is. And he loves her, loves her with all of his heart, all of his being. He will protect her from anything and everything. But once upon a time, a long time ago or a long time from now - it doesn't matter - Time lost his daughter. Lost her to a spider, a wicked witch in the center of a glistening web who spread lies and enchantments. _

_The spider had a name, once, but Time took it from her. What happened? They were tricked. The daughter asked for something, a wish, and it was granted. Because what father can say no to a daughter? But waiting there, waiting in her web, was the spider. And at first, of course, Time and Foresight didn't know what had happened, didn't understand the trap they had fallen into. But it came to pass the spider's web tightened around them. It pulled them, ripped them apart. And Time lost his daughter. But perhaps you might say it was Time himself who was lost, for while his daughter was left in the web, he himself was pulled far, far away - unable to reach her._

_And thus it was that the spider beat Time._

* * *

When Luna went down for breakfast the next morning, Xenophilius was sitting in the kitchen, positioned carefully facing the door. He glanced up as she walked in, guilty, but not guilty enough to pretend he wasn't guarding the door. He was just as skittish as he had been the night before, eyes flicking to her, the door, his hands twisting together in his lap, upstairs, a bottle on the table - on edge. He was, however, more talkative.

"How did you sleep?"

Luna followed his eyes as they danced around the room. Pale eyes, slightly protuberant. Scared eyes. Luna idly wondered who had put him to this. Janice, she assumed. "I slept fine." A blatant lie, but she wasn't going to tell Xeno her nightmare.

"That's good, that's good." Luna wished his eyes would stop darting about. It was unsettling. "Hungry?"

"Somewhat."

He hummed in response. "There's food in the cabinet. Er, the same one, you remember…"

She smiled, blank and unfelt. "Of course."

"Yes, good." And he fell silent, watching the door carefully. Luna found food and retreated upstairs.

Unlike most buildings, which are built out, the Lovegood residence was built up. It had six stories, each one carefully settled on top of the other. In order they were the kitchen, the sitting room, Luna's bedroom, the Quibbler office, the master bedroom, and the lab at the very top.

Without really paying attention, Luna wandered up and up and up, until there she was in the lab itself. Like everything else in the house, it was the same. Literally - it didn't look like anyone had tidied it up at all since her mum had- since last time. Blackened walls and the remains of potions, upturned tables and blood on the floor. Why had no one done anything with it? Why hadn't Xeno cleaned it up?

She knew why, of course, but it didn't stop her from wondering.

It was almost subconsciously that she swept the shards of glass off the remains of the table. That she picked up the pieces, carefully setting them in the mostly-whole remains of an old beaker. That she righted the table. Then she found a broom. Then she was cleaning, painstakingly sweeping and scraping and fixing, putting everything back together. As she worked memories danced through her head, and danced through the room. Half-remembered glittering people of gold, her mother stirring an invisible brew, Luna handing tools as prompted. Not as strong as they might have been, should have been - they were faded, grey and faint - but they were there. She smiled as she worked. Everything outside stopped. Janice and Xeno went away, her father's plight faded. It was only her, safe in that bubble of time and space, untouchable, wrapped within memories of childhood.

It was so strange, coming back. Not bad, not exactly, but… uncomfortable. Like clothes that no longer fit right, meeting friends who weren't yours anymore. She'd spent so long doing her best to forget about it all, to pretend it had always been living with Will and traveling with Dad, that sometimes she forgot that it hadn't always been like that. For years she had been normal, with Daddy and Mum, then Mum and Xeno. It wasn't until disaster struck that she had stumbled into Dad's path.

And there she was again, back home in the house that didn't fit. Fallen back, paralleled; now Dad was the one who was gone in disaster and she was home with Xeno, her childhood home that wasn't _hers._ Reminders of that disaster and unwanted memories mixed in with the echos of happier times. It was just… strange.

It was with these thoughts wandering through her head that she worked, forgetting lunch and dinner and Xeno and the rest of the house, content to fix her mother's workspace and call back memories.

* * *

Very far away from the Lovegood residence was a townhouse, a dilapidated old thing, family heirloom. Inside there were three men. Well, there were more than just the three men, but it is the three men who are important right now. One of them was a brother, one of them was a stranger, and one of them was a missed opportunity, and all of them were grown.

They were talking, the three men. Or, rather, two of them were talking, and one was staring at his drink as if it had wronged him (which it hadn't in the slightest). He was the one who was a missed opportunity, and was in fact dwelling on that same missed opportunity. It wasn't something he enjoyed dwelling on, and it wasn't something he dwelled on particularly often, but for the moment it was there, brought to the forefront of his mind by a visitor. The brothers (because they were brothers, the other two, half-brothers) glanced up at him every once in a while, but didn't attempt to draw him into their conversation. The third one was content to listen.

"Look, Remus-"

"You said it yourself, Will," Remus interrupted. "Someone has done something. Tell me: how do you plan to get to her?"

"I'll travel to Hogwarts. Or Lovegood's house, wherever. It'll be easy."

"It's not though."

"Of course it is. How hard can it be? I can take the Knight Bus there. You could apparate there in seconds. I don't understand what the problem is."

"The entirety of the Wizard world think she's been kidnapped. They'll be watching. There's no way a strange boy claiming to be her brother will be allowed near her."

"I'm not a _boy_, Remus, I'm twenty-four. Besides, she'll vouch for me."

"Kidnapped, Will. They'll lock you up for having something to do with it. Your heritage won't help you there either."

"Come on, Remus," Will protested. "I know your world is backwards, but not _that_ backwards."

"You'd be surprised," Remus muttered darkly.

"You don't think-" Will cut himself off.

"That's exactly what I think."

"But… I have to do something, Remus." Will shrugged helplessly. "She's like my sister. I've abandoned her once. I can't do it again."

"You won't," Remus placated him. "You're not. That's why we're here. We'll think of something."

"What I don't understand is how anyone figured out who she is. Was. I just... don't get it."

"Somebody said something," Sirius answered. "Someone must have. I'm willing to bet their intentions aren't friendly either, if they've separated her from you."

"And the Doctor," Will added. Sirius frowned.

"Yes. And the Doctor. Do you know where he might be?"

"Not exactly. I've heard rumors, though, that he's been trapped by an unlicensed human agency. I sent an owl to Luna. Regardless, he's been gone for ages; he wouldn't be if there wasn't something keeping him away.

"That doesn't surprise me. He's their biggest threat, if they're going after Luna." Sirius took a sip from his drink. "So there are three things we need to do."

"Three?"

"Find out who is behind this and deal with them," Sirius listed off.

"Find Luna and get her out of there," Remus added.

"And rescue the Doctor," Sirius finished. "Well. That can't be too difficult." He snorted. "Remus, you look for the Doctor. You're traveling the most."

"I'll keep an ear out for whoever is doing this," Will volunteered. "It's been a while, but I've got contacts on the streets."

"Good. I'll check on Luna."

"How? You heard Remus, there's no way anyone's getting to her."

Sirius' grin was predatory. "Nobody human. I'm sure a harmless dog could get through."

"Be careful, Sirius. You have no idea who is doing this. It might be connected with You-Know-Who."

"Don't worry, Remus. Careful is my middle name."

"Like hell it is."

"Alright, yes, it's Orion. But believe me – I don't plan on putting her in any more danger than she's in already."

"You better not." That was Will, and the two stared each other down until Remus cleared his throat.

"We can meet back here," he offered. "Albus wants me to scout around York for the month. We'll compare when I return."

Will nodded and stood. With the meeting drawn to a close he had no reason to stay. "I'll be in London, then, if you need to contact me. Remus, Sirius." And he was gone, slipping out of 12 Grimmauld Place and back onto the streets of London. Remus lingered a moment longer.

"I meant you too, you know. There's a price on your head. Be careful."

Sirius nodded. "I know. And I will be. There are people counting on me."

"Good." Remus stood. "I'll see you in a month, then."

Sirius called to him as he made to leave. "You be careful too."

"Always, Sirius." Then Sirius was alone in his family home. Like normal.

This time, though, unlike normal, he slipped out minutes later, a black dog roaming the streets, headed south towards Xenophilius' house.

Towards Luna.

* * *

The nightmare came again that night. Whispers, insidious orders creeping through her mind, needles and potions and control. When she woke she was cold, panting, and still in Mum's old lab.

She had cleaned it well. Broken glass and wood was swept aside and disposed off, charred stone had been scraped clean, stains had been washed away. Luna blinked, looking at it. She hadn't realized that much work had been done. It felt empty now. Drained. Or maybe that was just her.

Xeno was sitting in the kitchen again when she went down for breakfast, suddenly ravenous.

"I noticed you didn't go to bed last night," he said in the silence as Luna made toast.

"No I was… cleaning."

"Cleaning. Yes, that's good." He paused. "Cleaning where?"

"Mum- the lab." Xeno continued to stare blankly at her. "The old lab. Upstairs." She spoke quietly. "Mum's lab."

"Cira's lab?"

"Yes, Xeno. Cira's lab."

"Oh."

He fell silent, staring back out the door. The quiet crunch of Luna munching toast was the only sound in the kitchen. It was a lethargic silence, and Luna didn't like it. She retreated upstairs as soon as possible.

Which left her, still, trapped in a house she didn't want to be in with nothing to do but half-finished school work.

Or completely finished schoolwork, two hours later. It wasn't that hard. Honestly, people were so dull sometimes. Not like her. Not like Dad.

But that wasn't something she wanted to think about (rather, it _was_ something she wanted to think about but there was nothing more _to_ think and really she needed more information so it wouldn't help her anyways). Instead she watched a spider slink across her ceiling, a common garden spider. They were everywhere, it seemed, the arachnids. Her mind, her room, her future, her family.

"What did I do to her?" Luna asked it softly. "Or is it what I will do to her?" There was nothing in her memories involving a Janice, and while there were quite a few spiders they had all been of the common type. Maybe the Doctor had once killed one of her children. There were peoples who followed that sort of logic. You kill my son, I'll kill yours. Take the Mesopotamians for example. Hammurabi loved that philosophy.

"Who started it?" she asked the spider. The spider scuttled back to the corner, and Luna was left, bored and alone and at a dead-end and curious in a sickened sort of way. Thus it was that the hours ticked slowly by until another day as prisoner in the Lovegood house had passed.

* * *

Reviews are, as always, welcome.


	31. Chapter 31

Disclaimer: I own neither Harry Potter nor Doctor Who.

* * *

_The spider had beaten Time, but it was not Time the spider wanted. The spider wanted vengeance, and it was not Time who had wronged the spider, but rather his daughter, who had foreseen the spider's end and she believed, perhaps perhaps, in that twisted mind of hers, that were she to get rid of Foresight, to destroy Prophecy, it would not come to pass. And so she set her trap, and caught her prey in her sticky, heavy, sickening web._

_She wanted vengeance for the wrongs committed. And she would have it._

* * *

Day after day ticked on, until it was Christmas Eve. Frost had set in - ice that froze the grass and gave birth to icicles along windows - and the house grew chilly. Xeno moved his chair from the door to the stove to keep warm. The spirit in the house was less Christmas than it was winter - the cold without the festivity to brighten long nights (though Xeno's bottles did seem to be closer at hand – not that Luna minded, as a drunk Xeno was a blind Xeno, and a blind Xeno was one she could give the slip).

And give him the slip she would. For Christmas she had filled his bottles with the most powerful sleeping potion she could brew with the scarce ingredients she found in the old lab. It wasn't much - barely strong enough to be considered a sleeping draught - but coupled with the alcohol it would be enough. It had to be. Christmas was a time for miracles. Luna could use a miracle.

The week at the Lovegood residence hadn't been the kindest. Xeno refused to go shopping without the certainty that Luna would stay put, so food had dwindled. There would be no feast for Christmas dinner. Then there were the nightmares, coming night after night without fail and leaving her weary and chilled and confused. Nor had her search for Janice brought up any new leads. She knew where the woman was, but she was no closer to understanding why than she had been a week ago. She needed food, and sleep, and answers. Which was why Luna was quietly, carefully, planning her escape. All she needed was that miracle.

She received it. It took a long time - past midnight, Christmas day - but finally, finally, Xeno's grip on his bottle slackened and his head fell back. Dead to the world. She was at the door in an instant, easing the lock around, slipping it open. And then it was open, and she was out, chilled and pale and tired but finally, finally free.

* * *

Sirius kept to the country, skirting muggle towns and wizarding properties alike. He had been wandering around for a week, scouring the area. He knew the Lovegood residence was nearby. And yet, no matter how carefully he looked, no matter how many times he scoured the countryside around Ottery St. Catchpole, there was nothing. No scent to pick up, no house. Just acre upon acre of rolling hills and grass.

So he continued to search, returning to the town and circling outward, nose to the ground, praying for a trail.

* * *

Luna's trip reminded her of a similar one nearly a decade ago. For all that it was the middle of winter instead of midsummer and she was much older and wiser, and less human, she was still following that same path up to London, doing her utmost not to leave a trail. Then it had been to protect her from Xeno and the authorities he might contact, now it was from Janice. She wasn't escaping a blind, mad step-father, she was escaping an intelligent, dangerous enemy who, for a reason Luna did not know (and didn't that ignorance irritate her) wanted her destroyed.

She slept on a bus that first night, and for the first night since it had first come, she did not have the nightmare.

* * *

Sirius caught the scent on Christmas day. Finally. He followed it through the town, through alleys and hidden streets, to a bus stop on the other side of the village. There he lost it, muddled and mixed with the harsh scent of fumes and the overlapping traces of hundreds of people coming and going. That was fine, though. He could use more than just his nose. He had brains, often as Remus alluded to a lack thereof. He could follow the bus routes, go back to London, track her there. Will would be there to help him.

It might take time, but they would find her.

* * *

The city was both bigger and smaller than she remembered. The streets teemed with tourists and natives, the alleys were full of urchins and graffiti and refuse and there was something about it that felt like coming home. Years later she slid back into the strange underworld of the homeless and the criminal underclass. Her dad would probably have something to say about that. She was happy for the comfort of that old life.

However comfortable she was fitting back in with them, though, they were a bit more skittish about interacting with her. It took ten pounds, a fist fight, and a very specific accent, but finally she had directions to Ealing, intel on where to find the more magically-inclined in the homeless network, and rumors that there was a familiar-sounding guy about looking for his kid sister.

Not that it meant anything, of course. But Luna had an inkling (a hope, really, because inklings were more-or-less things of the past without her second sight) that she knew who the familiar guy looking for his kid sister might be.

So she thanked the gang for the sandwich, asked them to pass on a note to a certain someone if they should happen to run into him, and caught a bus to Ealing. Hopefully she could explain everything to Sarah Jane before being thrown out.

Assuming Sarah Jane Smith lived on 13 Bannerman Road in the nineties, of course. Luna spared a moment to hope she did. Things could be problematic otherwise.

* * *

Very, very far away, in an isolated county about one hundred fifty kilometers south of Edinburgh, an awful lot of people were having a very bad day. One person was in particular having a downright horrible day (and there would be deaths later) and someone else, the lone man out, was having a much better day than he had in months.

The reason for these many frankly awful days (and one particularly lovely day when compared to the previous days) was a break-out that was occurring in one of the most heavily guarded research facilities in the country, and possibly the world. Currently in progress was a merry chase through white, fluorescent corridors. Something was beeping ominously in one of the labs as well, but no one would notice that until it was too late.

Also slipping away were a number of less-important prisoners, many who were in the process of hijacking a not-fully-decommissioned spacefaring vessel and in the process of air-lifting out a number of fellow prisoners. There was a merry chase going on in that direction as well. (Though it was not, let it be said, as important as the first chase.)

The man having a pretty good day (who had many names but was known as the Doctor to multitudes of beings throughout the cosmos) ducked left, then right, then left. Somewhere around there was his TARDIS, which he was going to find and then take to find Luna. Then he would utterly destroy Janice. Not necessarily in that order. Only the suicidal tempt the wrath of the Oncoming Storm. And if there was one thing that tempted his wrath more than anything else, it was someone threatening his daughter.

But for now he had to focus, to get out so he could help Luna and give Janice what was coming to her. So he shoved that simmering anger to the back of his mind and took the turn coming up, a hard right. Gripped tight in his hand was a file he had appropriated from one of the labs. It was the one thing he'd been able to get his hands on in his mad dash through the room (well, the file and a very dangerous, very violate experiment that he might have upended) and he prayed to a deity he didn't believe in that it had at least some of the information he was searching for in it.

That was something else to focus on later, though. For now he clutched it tighter and, with dozens of men in lab coats and tranquilizer guns chasing him, made his way in the direction towards where he was mostly, kind of, pretty sure the TARDIS was.

Luck was with him, it seemed. He rounded a corner and there she was, sitting untouched right in front of him. His fingers scrabbled with the key for a terrifying second, then the lock clicked and the was through. The file landed on the nave seat as he circled the console, pressing a button here and pulling a lever there, twisting and clicking and throwing off the crude anti-travel field they had draped over her (disgusting). Then her engines roared to life and, with one last flick of the controls, he was out, spinning into the vortex. Safe.

Back in the Middle of Nowhere, North England (also known as Torchwood Four), a number of scientists and wizards having a very bad day stared as the blue box phased in and out of sight before disappearing completely. Someone coughed.

"Who's going to explain this to the Lady?" one asked into the silence.

Lucky for him (though really quite unluckily), at that point the full effects of the ruined lab experiment were made known.

To this day no one - not even the other branches of the Torchwood organization - knows exactly what happened to Torchwood Four.

* * *

Janice, also knows as Lady Arakne, also known as the Spider, also known as a lot of other names she couldn't be bothered to keep track of, was having a frankly awful day. There had been blood. It had belonged to other people. It hadn't made her day much better; now there were stains in the carpet.

There was the one, minor convenience of being in her own dwelling, which was she did not need to bother hiding tastes and habits from the mindless apes around her. But really that was nothing in the face of losing her two most precious bargaining chips. One had escaped the most heavily-guarded facility the planet currently possessed and was far out of her reach by now. The other….

"She did _what_?"

Xenophilius Lovegood trembled quietly at the other end of the phone line.

"She was gone when I woke up. I was in front of that door all night; she must have slipped out when I fell asleep…"

"You let her out."

"No I-" He hastily resolved his response. "Not on purpose."

"You complete and utter _idiot_!" she roared. Then she sighed, pinched the bridge of her nose, and sank into a convenient couch.

"Sorry, Ma'am, I didn't-"

"I understand, Xenophilius. She's a tricky one."

"Yes, Ma'am."

"You did the best you could."

"Yes, Ma'am." She could hear the fear building in his voice as she met his terror with seemingly kind understanding. Good. Maybe he wasn't a complete idiot.

"The question then comes: what are you going to do about it?"

"Ma'am?"

"You lost her. You find her. I believe that is how it works?"

"But I don't know where she went."

"You had better find out, then, Xenophilius. Because I have a very inconvenienced leader of a terrorist organization who wants her back."

She could hear his fear, practically taste it. It was lovely.

"Yes, Ma'am. I'll get right on it."

"See that you do. I don't want to hear from you until you have her. Understand?"

"Yes, Ma'am."

"Good." She hung up on him and closed her eyes. Stupid little ape. She should have set someone to watch the house. She would lose days for this one.

At least the child was still isolated. Wherever the Time Lord was, he was completely cut off from her timeline. In fact, better cut him off from the decade. Just in case. She'd have one of the people at Torchwood One get on that. Immediately. It would be a pain, giving such technology to a clearly undeveloped cesspool, but such sacrifices would have to be made.

A knock interrupted her. The door opened as she looked up. Ah. There was a familiar figure, and a conversation she had been hoping to put off.

"Lady Arakne."

"Lord Voldemort. This is a surprise." An unwelcome one too. He stood right outside the doorway in a personal parody of respect. Well, at least he had some manners, she consoled herself.

"My present is missing, my Lady."

"As I am well aware, my Lord. I currently have some of my finest on the trail." Because the Eight Gods forbid she leave Xenophilius to find the girl. It would never happen. People were being deployed as she spoke. "The girl will be back within the week."

"I hope so. She was doing so well. I have no wish to set back the programming."

Janice didn't bother hiding a distasteful curl of her lips. So crass, reprogramming a mind and body. There were much more elegant ways of turning someone than potions and spells. The girl herself had learned some of them, if she remembered correctly. Which she did.

But they were only apes, she supposed, with all the finesse that afforded them. As long as it got the job done she'd sulk and let them at it.

"Of course not, Lord Voldemort."

"I hope this will not happen again?"

"Next time we will leave the drunk out of the equation all together."

"I hope so. Else the results may be… displeasing."

Janice bristled. "Might I remind you, _my Lord_, that I am far older and stronger than you are."

"Warning noted, my Lady."

"I should hope so."

His face twisted into the barest of sneers. "I await her eagerly then."

"Until next time, my Lord."

"Farewell, my Lady." The door clicked behind him.

Disgusting little man. A spider in the lesser sense of the term. Slinking through shadows. She was infinitely more conniving and sly (and much older, but that wasn't something to get into). Most importantly, she would come out on top.

Because she always did.

* * *

The streets of London, Sirius despaired, were possibly even more confusing and hard to follow than the utterly empty countryside of south England. At least there he hadn't been caught up with other scents. In London, everything ran over everything else.

Then there was the threat of being noticed. Wizards slipped in and out of muggle populations, allies and enemies alike. Anyone could be a threat, especially since Voldemort knew about his animagus talents (all thanks to Wormtail, the thieving traitor).

Now and again he thought he caught something, but always it was gone before he could follow it. Sirius swore to himself that he would find her, but he wasn't familiar with the streets, or the people, or the scents. Everything was lost, muddled. He had to keep going, for Luna, but he didn't know where to start.

It was better, he decided, to leave the streets of London to Will, for they had once been his home. Besides, it was Christmas, and Harry was home for the holiday. He would do nobody any good wandering the streets. Better visit his godson while he had the chance.

And then, when he was free to run around again, when Will had a lead for him to follow up on, he would go back out and find Luna.

* * *

Sarah Jane Smith was a woman who lived an average life in an average house in the suburbs of London. She worked as a freelance investigative journalist, a job that took her around the world. She was cultured and intelligent and rather pretty and quite normal, thank you very much.

Or so the neighbors assumed, and Sarah Jane made no attempt to change their minds. A closer look, however, might afford one an insight not granted to many. For there was a sentient computer in the attic and a robot dog in the kitchen and that vase wasn't from China but Atticus III and Sarah Jane Smith was not a freelance investigative journalist but a former companion of the Doctor and thus a protector of the Earth. (Alright, technically she _was_ an investigative journalist, but that didn't mean she couldn't be a freelance alien diplomat on the side.)

This particular morning, however, Sarah Jane was busy being solely an investigative journalist, halfway through her latest story and sorely in need of an extension. She was writing furiously, racing to get the article done by her afternoon deadline. She hadn't slept and, to make matters worse, she was out of coffee and wanted nothing more to collapse on the sofa and watch some telly.

So, of course, doorbell rang.

Sarah Jane looked up, fingers continuing without her as she twisted to look at the door. It was too early for solicitors or people of that sort, and she still had six hours until her deadline. So who was it?

A girl. She was standing on the steps, lacing and unlacing her fingers nervously, though she relaxed the tiniest bit as the door opened. Sixteen, but on the small side, Sarah Jane estimated, pale and blonde with wide, silvery eyes and completely unfamiliar. Sarah Jane pasted on a smile. She really didn't have time for this.

"Hello, can I help you?"

"Sarah Jane?"

"Yes, that's me." The girl opened her mouth and closed it again. Sarah Jane sighed. "Can I help you?"

"I don't know. I mean, I hope so, but…" She looked like she was ready to bolt. Or perhaps collapse. It was a look Sarah Jane was familiar with, and she began to relax a little with an idea what this all was about. She wasn't a stranger to stranded aliens showing up on her doorstep. Terrible timing, though. Couldn't it have waited six hours or so?

"Why don't we start with your name?" the older woman offered, brushing off her impatience. "It's only fair, since you already know mine."

"Luna. Luna Etoile. Though next time you'll know that. It makes sense now." The girl talked half to herself, and Sarah Jane wondered what she was going on about. It sounded suspiciously like someone in the wrong time. And that might mean- No. She forced the thought away. That had been years ago, it was done now.

"Hello, Luna. What can I do for you?"

She hesitated for a moment, then spoke in a sudden rush that left Sarah Jane reeling. "I need help. It's about Dad. Well, and me, but mostly Dad, because once Dad's okay he'll come help me. And there's a spider in there too somewhere, and nightmares, and a puppet and a lot of other stuff I don't quite understand and that scares me. But you were here last time and I know you have the connections, and you even mentioned it, I think, so I escaped and came here."

There was a funny feeling deep in Sarah Jane's stomach, a sort of terrified elation, and she was almost afraid to ask. "Your father?"

Luna looked guilty, of all things. "Erm. Yes, you used to travel with him. The Doctor."

Sarah Jane felt faint. The article could wait; she would call her editor and tell him that she couldn't make the deadline and give someone else the story. There were bigger things afoot. "I think you had better come inside."

* * *

Reviews are, as always, welcome.


	32. Chapter 32

Disclaimer: I own neither Harry Potter nor Doctor Who.

* * *

_She wanted revenge, and she was not content to merely trap them. She wanted Prophecy destroyed - which meant the girl herself. So she captured little Foresight, warped and twisted and wrenched until Foresight was no longer a girl, but a vengeful god._

_Such plots take time and precision - but they come about._

* * *

Sarah Jane finished prepping the tea and peered back through the door to stare at the girl sitting on her couch. Luna. And she was - what? Related to? The offspring of? - The Doctor. The bohemian dandy with a scarf? Or perhaps the man had regenerated again. Had he gone back home after he dropped Sarah Jane off and started up a family? Oh, there were so many questions, so many possibilities. But she couldn't interrogate the child. She looked ready to collapse, settled in the couch as if it were the only thing holding her up.

"Here." Luna glanced up when Sarah Jane back in and settled in the chair across from her. "I made tea."

"Thank you." Unsure of what to say, she took a sip.

Sarah Jane leaned forward a little, measuring with her eyes. Luna could feel it. Carefully she put her tea down.

"Thank you." Not for the tea.

"Oh, no, don't mention it. I'm familiar with that look."

"Yes. I suppose you would be."

"So, Luna. What can I do for you?"

Luna hesitated, stalling with another sip of tea. "It's… it's Dad. And there's a woman too, a vengeful woman, but I don't quite know who she is, or why. Mostly, though, it's Dad I'm worried about. Because, you see… He never leaves me anywhere. No matter what, he always takes me with him. Unless he's well and truly terrified that something will happen to me and nothing can stop it. And that only happened once." She paused, smiling faintly for the first time. "You were there."

Sarah Jane blinked. "You think he's scared of something?"

But Luna shook her head. "No. Because Janice is the dangerous thing. But Janice is here. He's gone because he's been taken away from here. And I have to find him, get him back."

Sarah Jane nodded once in easy acceptance. "What do we need to do?"

* * *

The Doctor swore in Gallifreyan. Colorfully. Then he backed up, re-entered the coordinates, and swore again.

"What's wrong with you?" he demanded. The TARDIS groaned quietly. "Eh? What is it, old girl?" Still no luck. He collapsed back on the nav seat.

Stuck. He was stuck. Anywhere in time and space - except when and where he wanted to be. How did that work? It was something he'd never encountered before, almost a time lock. A time-specific lock, though, something that required technology he had always thought was purely theoretical. The TARDIS groaned and wheezed around him again, trying to break through. The Doctor gently stroked the console.

"It's alright, old girl, don't strain yourself." She wheezed one last time and fell silent. It was eerie. Too calm. Wrong. Just like this entire situation.

"How did this happen?" he asked the arched coral ceiling uselessly. How? And why? "What is she looking for?"

He should have noted the signs immediately. The moment Dumbledore had mentioned the woman, the moment she had entered the picture, he should have taken Luna and left. But no, he was too curious, she was too curious, they were both too curious. Too curious for their own good. See where it had landed them?

He ran a hand down his face, sighing heavily. And all the while Luna was down there with that, that _creature_, he was suck on the other side of a wall. No way in, no way to even contact her. Helpless.

No, not helpless. He was the Doctor. The Oncoming Storm, the Last of the Time Lords. He was far from helpless. All over the cosmos, all over time and space, people owed him favors. He had watched worlds burn, had brought about the utter destruction of his own peoples. He _would not_ let some insignificant, piss-poor excuse for a living creature get away with this. He was the Doctor, and his daughter was in danger.

He would win, and Janice would burn.

* * *

When Luna finished speaking, Sarah Jane stood. "It sounds like as good a plan as any. I think, however, that Mr. Smith will be more of a help than me."

"Oh, Mr. Smith!" Luna brightened up. "How is he?"

Sarah Jane started at the girl's knowledge of the extraterrestrial super computer. But then, she shouldn't have been surprised. After all, they had already met in the future. "Doing quite well, thank you. I'm sure he'd love to meet you."

She led Luna upstairs. When they reached the attic, the girl marveled at the artifacts lying around while Sarah Jane woke up Mr. Smith. He came out with the usual fanfare.

"Sarah Jane. I see we have a guest."

"Yes. Mr. Smith, I'd like you to meet Luna. Luna, this is Mr. Smith."

"Hello, Luna. Pleased to meet you."

"Hello."

"Sarah Jane, I notice that your guest has only partially alien DNA."

Sarah Jane cast a look at Luna. "Yes, she's… related to the Doctor."

"Oh, not by blood." Luna replied vaguely. "He adopted me when I was eight."

That piqued Sarah Jane's interest even more. But really, there was more important work to do. "You see, Mr. Smith, the Doctor has been kidnapped, and we are trying to find him. Luna would like you to put her through to Torchwood. And while you're doing that, I need you to search all your records for an alien going by the alias of 'Janice' within the past fifty years."

"Sarah Jane. Are you certain you wish to contact Torchwood? I believed you to be firmly against interacting with the agency."

Luna spoke up. "I need to speak to Captain Jack Harkness. But only Uncle Jack. Can you do that?"

Mr. Smith, for all that he was a computerized alien life form, managed to sound miffed. "Of course I can. I am not a primitive Earth computer. " He paused for a moment. "Calling. Torchwood, Agent Harkness."

A dial tone filled the air and a vidchat appeared on Mr. Smith's screen. A moment later a familiar face filled it.

A familiar voice spoke with a familiar American accent. "Agent Harkness. Who is this? You've got some pretty high-tech equipment for an…" he paused and studied the screen. "Is that an Atraxi stun gun? Who is this?"

"Mr. Harkness, my name is Sarah Jane Smith. I'm a former companion of the Doctor's."

"It's Captain Harkness, actually," Luna interrupted. Jack looked back and forth between Luna and Sarah Jane. "Hello, Jack."

"Sorry, do I know you?"

Luna shrugged. "Not yet. Sarah Jane doesn't either, actually. She was very nice to put this call through."

"Look, kid-"

"Luna."

"Okay. Luna. Shouldn't you be, I dunno, at home? That what kids do this century, right?"

"It's about the Doctor." Sarah Jane interrupted. "Luna thinks you can help."

"The Doctor?" Jack sat up straighter and glanced around before returning his undivided attention to the screen. "What is it? Is he here?"

"No." Luna was blunt. "But he should be. He was with me to drop me off at school-"

"School?"

"He's her father," Sarah Jane offered. "I don't quite understand either."

"Wait, father? Old big ears? What, did he and Rose finally…" He made suggestive eyebrow motions. Luna made a face. "I'll admit, you've got her hair…"

"No. Ew. Rose isn't… um. Rose isn't my mum. The Doctor adopted me. I was eight. It's a long, sort of weird story…"

"I'm listening. Intently."

Luna scowled. "We haven't got _time_ though. Dad's gone because someone's taken him and I don't know how or where or why. But _you're_ with Torchwood which means you have access to confidential information, which we need. So are you going to help or not? Because if you're not I'll just hack in anyways. I can do it."

Jack eyed her for a moment, then grinned. "I _like_ you, Lu. Okay, shoot. What do you know so far?"

Luna rubbed her hands together. Finally they were getting somewhere. "There's a woman, an alien, named Janice. I think she may be some sort of arachnid or arachnid-like, possibly telepathic alien. She's got connections with Voldemort - do you know who Voldemort is?"

"They brief us on all the supernatural going-ons around Britain. Even the stuff that isn't our division."

"I'm just wondering. Muggles, you know."

"Yeah, yeah." His tone was tired, but he was grinning. Luna was surprised to find that she was too. It was so nice to see a familiar face, even if he didn't really recognize her. Seeing Jack again was like getting a memo that they would all be okay. "Get on with it."

"She's got connections with Voldemort and possibly a sway over Dumbledore. I need to know everything you can get on her. Who she is, why she's here, what she's doing, how she's doing it, what tech she has access to – everything."

"That's a tall order, kid. It might take a while."

"Sarah Jane will still be here. I, um… I may have to go. I think she's looking for me. More of a gut feeling, since I can't… well."

Both Sarah Jane and Jack looked at her curiously. "Can't what?"

"It's a Time Lord thing."

"So you're not actually his daughter but you are a Time Lord," Jack muttered to himself. "I thought he was the-"

"Half," Luna interrupted. She didn't want to go there, because if this didn't work out, if Janice got her hand on him, or back on her… well, one of them could still be the last. "Half-time lord. My mum's from France."

"Now I'm _really_ interested," Jack joked. "You'll have to tell me all about it- oh, Jesus."

"What, what is it?" Sarah Jane stepped forward. "What happened?"

His reply was startlingly somber. "I think I've got that info you wanted. I'm sending it over right now."

Text started scrolling on the screen, too fast for Sarah Jane to follow. Luna, on the other hand…

"Torchwood Four?"

"It's just coming in now. I'm looking into their backed-up files. It's pretty high-up info, hope they don't catch me." He laughed humorlessly. "Not that they could do anything to me if they did. Oh, damn."

"It's… gone?"

"Wiped off the map, it looks like. But some of their files… talk about prisoner Alpha. Apparently his escape triggered the shut down or something. There's nothing left of the place, it's like it never existed. But prisoner Alpha… was part of a direct deal with an alien of unspecified origin going by the name of Lady Arakne."

An older form of of the word arachnid. Luna didn't have to guess. "Janice."

"Looks like it. There's also something about an 'experimental time lock' and 'alien-wizard interaction.' Definitely looks like our dear old Doc."

"Prisoner Alpha," Sarah Jane asked slowly. "Does it say what happened to him?"

"Explicitly?" Jack shook his head. "No. But I've got some footage, last thing the cams sent through before the place took a bus to nowhere-land. Here, I'm sending it. I hope your computer can unscramble it."

Mr. Smith, needless to say, could. The feed was grainy and cut off barely ten seconds in, but there was no mistaking the familiar blue box fading away at the end of a long hallway. Luna sank down onto the steps.

He was safe. That meant he was safe. Dad was okay. Janice didn't have him; he was free and wandering the universe. Looking for her, he would be looking for her. Oh, thank Rassilon. It would all be all right. He would come back, and they would get rid of Janice together, and then they would travel around for a couple decades staying clear of the 1990s and everything attributed to it. It would be fine. It would all be fine.

"Hey, Sarah Jane?" Jack's voice interrupted her relieved musings. "About the Janice lady…"

"Yes?"

"I've got some intel I think you could use."

"What's that?"

"Well, it looks to me like she's a very powerful and possibly very angry and very, very old life form. But, more importantly - and I might be wrong - I think she's arriving at your street."

Then again, maybe it wouldn't be fine at all.

"The Captain is correct," Mr. Smith spoke up suddenly. "There is a life form currently approaching the house that is within the parameters of the one you have described to me. Pulling up CCTV feed now."

The video appeared in his screen and Luna paled. She didn't know, she had never actually met the woman, but the icy face, the scuttling stride, the shadow with a hint of too-many legs – it had to be her. She stood and swallowed, mouth dry. This wasn't supposed to happen. She was supposed to be safe. So much for that. Her mind started whirring, measuring danger and possibilities and damages. There was no helping it. She'd have to do it.

"You have to leave," she spoke suddenly, briskly, as if she weren't having a quiet panic attack at the back of her mind. "Sarah Jane, you have to leave now. She can't find out I've come to you for help. I don't know what she'll do, but it won't be nice. Take whatever you need and leave through the back. Jack, find out what you can but don't get caught. You _can't _get caught. Mr. Smith… Can you wipe your memory of this conversation? She can't know we know, and she can't know I came here for help. If she thinks I have a way out she'll get rid of it."

"I can do that, yes. Commencing data wipe."

"But what about you?" Sarah Jane protested. "I thought you were trying to escape from her, you can't just let her find you again."

Luna shrugged helplessly. It was all going wrong. "She already knows I'm here, if she didn't she wouldn't have come herself. It's no use running. But you two _can't_ let her find you. I'm counting on you. Find Dad. Tell him everything you can. And, Jack…"

"Yeah, Lu?" He was frowning, half-attentive and typing furiously.

"Can you…" She paused. "Find out what you can about a connection between her and dreams. I think... I think she's doing something to my dreams."

Luna realized, suddenly, how frightened she was. She did not want to go back, back to the nightmares and the questions and the loneliness. She wanted to run and run and run until Janice would never, ever find her.

She couldn't run, though. She had to stand up, to face the creature at the end of the street. Had to find out who, and how, and why. She had some answers. She would find the rest of them. And then, once she understood, once she knew what was going on, she could end it. She _would_ end it.

"Luna," Sarah Jane murmured, running a hand through her hair. Luna swallowed hard and straightened her back.

"I'll be okay," she promised, to them and to herself. "You do your jobs. I'll do mine. And, if you can't contact me - I doubt you'll be able to - contact William Lupin or Sirius Black. Tell them I sent you and they'll do whatever they can to help."

"Luna," Mr. Smith interrupted, "before I complete my wipe, here is the information I could find on the subject of 'Janice.' I hope it is sufficient."

Words and numbers scrolled across the screen and Luna's eyes flickered back and forth, drinking in the information. Her eyes widened. Sarah Jane opened her mouth to talk but Luna beat her to it.

"You've waited too long already. You have to go. Now."

"We've got your back, Lu."

Luna turned to the screen. "I know, Jack. Than you. You've got to go too, though."

He nodded once and saluted. "Good luck." The screen went blank.

"Data wipe complete. Commencing shutdown." With a hiss of steam, the super computer disappeared back into the wall.

"Now you, Sarah Jane. You have to go. And you can't come back, they might be watching. I'm so sorry I pulled you into this mess…"

"Don't say that," Sarah Jane replied sternly. "A friend of the Doctor's is a friend of mine. You're practically family. If you ever need help you are free to come here. Do you understand me?"

Luna nodded, sheepish. "It just seems… Every time I come here I end up putting you in more danger. I'm sorry."

"I don't regret it for a minute. I've faced worse." She paused. "It will be okay."

"How do you know?" Luna asked quietly. Sarah Jane smiled gently, leading the way downstairs.

"A very old friend once told me: It will all be okay in the end. If it's not okay, it's not the end."

Luna looked at her with a cocked eyebrow. "And you believe that?"

Sarah Jane smiled faintly. "I always was a hopeless optimist." They had reached the ground floor. Sarah grabbed her keys and her purse and hesitated at the back door.

"This goes against everything the Doctor taught me, you know."

"I know. I'm sorry. But you will see me again. And if I am very lucky, I will see you. This isn't the end, Sarah Jane."

"It had better not be."

And with one last, impulsive hug from Luna, Sarah Jane was out the door, disappearing out into the concrete jungle of the London suburbs.

Not a moment too soon either, for within a minute there was a knock at the door signaling an arrival. It was with heavy steps and a heavy heart that Luna trudged to the horribly cheerful red door. On the other side was a familiar shadow and familiar eyes hiding a familiar signature.

"There you are," Janice drawled. "I was wondering where you had gotten off to. Time to go home now, darling."

The door clicked shut on an empty, abandoned house.

* * *

Reviews are, as always, welcome.


	33. Chapter 33

Disclaimer: I own neither Harry Potter nor Doctor Who.

* * *

_And so the spider's plot came about, and her vengeance was had, and Foresight was a wrathful god, a mindless machine of war and fire and blood. And so the spider's plot came about, and her vengeance was had. Her tricks and Foresight was a wrathful god, a mindless machine of war and fire and blood. The girl inside was trapped, powerless, and the spider could sit back, happy with her work. Time was gone, Foresight was trapped, and she was safe._

* * *

Luna remembered very little of her stay with Janice. She spent most of her time sleeping, dreaming of steel and cold and oily webs seeping through her mind. When she was awake she was alone. Always alone. Sometimes there was food, sometimes sunlight glanced through the high window in her room that was more of a prison cell than a real room. It reminded her of her year as the Master's plaything. Back then, though, no one had been allowed to harm her, not really. Here there were no such rules.

Janice came by once, and Luna could remember that meeting in its entirety. Luna had been standing by her window, barely able to see out it to the street below, when the door opened. She turned, and there was the spider. Luna fixed the woman's face in her mind. Pale and rosy and icy. Her eyes were black and glittering.

"We meet properly at last," Janice said, settling herself on the bed. Luna leaned against the wall. Once, long ago, another madman had taught her how to play this game. Time to play again.

"I've been waiting to meet you," Luna replied.

"Yes, I know you have." Her grin was icy. "Have you liked my game?"

"I'd like it more if I had answers."

"Oh, no, that's too easy. I can't just _give_ them to you."

"It's a good thing I've found them for myself then, isn't it? Tell me, Janice, how long has it been since your people died?" Janice hissed. Low blow, perhaps, but it felt good, to have power for once. "What is it like, to be completely alone?"

She regained her footing. "Surely you know the answer to that just as well as I do."

"Nothing like hearing it from the source itself. I'm interested, though. How is it that out of an entire species, only you escaped?"

"Ah, yes. Because you don't know, do you?" Janice smirked. "That's no matter. Once I'm done with you, it will never happen. The thing about time travel is that you can take care of enemies before they grow up. Does that answer your question?"

It did. It answered a lot of questions, actually.

"So you've got me isolated. I don't see how that helps you. I'll get out sooner or later. You haven't done anything to me, not really."

"Oh, darling." Her grin was positively feral. "You don't know the half of it. You see… everything is already in motion. I can't stop it. You can't stop it. It's practically finished."

Luna pinned her with a look, but try as she might she could not find an answer. "Is it? I haven't noticed anything." That wasn't true, but she wouldn't give Janice the satisfaction of her fear.

"Of course you haven't." It was mocking. "Would you like to hear the secret?" She leaned forwards, and Luna unconsciously leaned forwards as well. "Your dreams?" Luna nodded warily, and Janice smiled, a smile of victory, closing the web tight. "They're real."

* * *

Will's pocket was ringing. Which was strange for two reasons: a) because no one had his number and b) because the phone in his pocket wouldn't be invented for another twenty years and was therefore not connected to any real network. And yet someone was calling him. He answered hesitantly.

"Lupin."

The guy's accent was American. "You Will?"

"Maybe. Who is this?"

"Captain Jack Harkness. Torchwood."

_Torchwood? _"And how did you get this number?"

"Um, the agency I work with, there's sort of this policy- It's not important. Listen, Luna told me-"

"Luna?"

The guy on the other end hesitated. "Um, yeah. Cute kid? Blonde? Good with technology?"

"No, no, I know who she is." _She's practically my sister_. He switched the phone to the other ear. "Where was she? How is she? How did you contact her?"

Harkness hesitated. "Um… listen, this isn't really a conversation we should have on this line. Can you come to Cardiff?"

"Yes." _In an instant._ "Where?"

"The Oval Basin. I'll meet you there at sunset."

"How will I know who-" But Harkness had already hung up.

* * *

The TARDIS touched down with a groan. The Doctor checked the date. Wrong side of the lock. Again. He had hit Earth, though, which was good. On the other hand, 2008 was far too late for his liking.

"The early nineties would have been nice," he muttered to the console. Lights blinked back at him. He scowled. They blinked again. The Doctor held up his hand in surrender. "Okay, fine. I'll get out."

The world outside was typical Earth. Cars, people, shops, food. London, he noted. That had always been one of his favorites. One of Luna's favorites too. He scowled again.

"I don't see why I have to do something besides find her," he muttered angrily to the TARDIS. "She needs me and you're _dumping_ me here." The TARDIS locked the door. The Doctor threw up his hands, swearing under his breath in Gallifreyan. "Fine. Have it your way."

He was too mired in his discontent to notice someone was yelling his name until that someone grabbed his shoulder and spun him around.

"Doctor!"

He looked up. His mouth fell open in surprise.

It was the temp, the one from Chiswick, whose wedding he had ruined years ago. Before Luna. And there she was, standing on the street in front of him, looking like Christmas had come early. Of all the possible meetings, this was not one he would have expected. Ever.

"Donna?"

"It _is_ you! Ha!" She laughed loudly. She had groceries in one hand. "I mean, I knew it had to be, because no one dresses like you. But still. Do you know how long I've been looking for you, spaceman? I've investigated _every_ possible alien incursion, hoping to find you. And here you are. Just walking down the street!" She laughed again. "My answer is yes. Yes I'm coming with you. I should have said so the first time. Well, I'm saying it now! So take me to your spaceship and let's get off this rock."

The Doctor just stared at her through her triumphant speech. This was… not something he had factored in. He almost glanced over his shoulder at the TARDIS. _This_ was why she had dropped him off? To pick up the loud redhead?

"Listen… Donna. I'm not sure you really want to come. I'm sort of in the middle of something-"

"Of course I want to come, spaceman. See the stars! Visit other planets! Trip of a lifetime!"

"Donna-"

"What, is the invitation rescinded? Can't I come?" She looked so sad, and the Doctor was stumbling over himself to placate her, to tell her that no, it was fine, he was just… busy. Looking for his daughter, but he didn't say that.

"Then you can be busy and alien and whatever it is you do and I'll tag along. I've been looking for you for _ages_, Doctor."

And there was really nothing he could say to that. So he shrugged, and Donna Noble joined him in the TARDIS.

* * *

Luna did not want to sleep. She never wanted to sleep again. _Your dreams are real._ She wanted to stay awake, forever. To escape the nightmares.

And yet, no matter how hard she tried, she was always tired, always drifting off. Cold metal tables and potions and needles and voices. Hours later she would wake with a shudder, feeling sick. _Your dreams are real_. New Year's Day came and went. Janice never came by again. The day she was to return to Hogwarts a maid brought up her trunk.

On the Hogwarts Express, Luna found an empty compartment. It was all she could do to not drift off. _Your dreams are real._

She took to going to Dumbledore's Army meetings, to keep herself occupied. She never dueled though, not after she injured her partner performing a spell she didn't even know she knew. Then Umbridge had put a stop to the meetings, and Dumbledore fled, and everything continued spiraling downhill. Detentions skyrocketed. Fred and George left school. Umbridge held Hogwarts in an iron fist, and her Inquisitive Squad, a group of rich Slytherin purebloods helped in return for her favoritism. Together they crushed anything and everything they disagreed with.

And every night, the nightmare came. _Your dreams are real. _No matter what she did, no matter what tricks she tried, they were always there.

She told the twins about them, before they left. Sometimes she was sure they had employed the others to keep track of her as well, she was sure. Hermione started talking to her again. Ron sometimes offered a game of chess. They kept her awake. She would never be able to thank them enough.

She was still going crazy. Oh, she could make it to classes, and managed to finish her homework, and was able to hold a decent conversation. But her mind was spinning, was not always her own, and it took its toll. She was always tired, pale, half-present. She was coping, but barely. Sooner or later she would have to break. She knew it, Janice knew it, the people from her nightmare knew it.

All they had to do was wait.

* * *

It was generally agreed that Cardiff at night was hardly more interesting than Cardiff by day. What most people in Cardiff, day or night, failed to realize, though, was that it was home to a top-secret government agency and was really much more interesting than they gave credit.

Will, for his part, was aware of how interesting Cardiff could be. He was sitting in a bar with a Captain who worked for said secret government agency, trading information on the subject of a dangerous alien who was causing problems for a lot of people.

At that moment, the Captain was talking. "The most worrying part of this whole mess-"

"Besides the whole vengeance for being the last of her kind thing?"

"Yes, besides that. The most worrying part is that she teamed up with Torchwood, so who knows what tech she has access to, or has given them."

"Tech enough to keep the Doctor away."

"Are you sure about that?"

"I told you, Captain, if he's not here it's because he can't be, and if he can't be it's because Torchwood is doing something. Nothing can keep him from Luna, not when she's in trouble."

"I guess. She said as much, but I though once he escaped…"

Silence hung in the air for a moment. Then:

"Could you do something about it?"

Jack was quiet. "I don't really want to know what would happen if they caught me. But yes. Probably."

"It would free the Doctor."

"I know." He frowned. "And if I get to him, you can find Luna."

Will nodded. "I will. Especially if she can do the mind thing, like you said…"

"She's in more danger than we thought, yes." Jack sighed. "I'll do it. But you owe me one."

"I'll buy you a drink when we're done."

Jack grinned. "I'm holding you to that."

He chugged the rest of his drink and wandered out into the Cardiff night. Will stuck around to finish his own drink, tossed a few pounds on the table, and followed him out. Then, with a twist and a quiet pop, he too disappeared.

* * *

Luna was almost dozing, that half-asleep stage where between exhaustion-enforced rest and consciousness she arrived at every night before the nightmare came. The dorm was silent, her other year-mates sleeping soundly. No one moved.

A breath stirred the bed curtains.

Luna sat up silently, suddenly fully awake. Her wand was beneath her pillow; she grabbed it now and swung her legs over the side of the bed, pulling back the curtain. She paused. No one. Hesitantly, she stepped forward. Lavender Brown and Parvati Patil were both asleep, curtains pulled securely around their beds. Hermione's was empty. No one moved.

Luna took another step forward. Nothing. She raised her wand. Nothing. Another step forward. Noth-

"Did you miss me, darling?"

She turned slowly. Janice. Of course. She didn't lower her wand.

"Not particularly."

"Tut tut. Is that a way to talk to Mummy?"

"You're not my mother."

"_They_ don't know that."

"We do though." Luna fixed her with a silver stare. "Why are you here?" Why now, when school was almost over, when she could almost slip away and find Jack, find Will, find someone to help fix her head?

Janice's smile was that of a predator. "Because you're ready, and my business partner has need of you."

"I'm ready? What-"

But Janice was speaking, saying words that Luna couldn't understand, and cold swept over her, chilling her to the bone and leaving her blinking through shrouds of grey. Everything was strangely blank, a dream. And then, of its own volition, her body began to move.

Somewhere in the back of her mind, Janice's chuckle was joined by a high pitched laugh.

* * *

Harry Potter rushed through the Department of Mysteries. Sirius was there somewhere, he knew it. Sirius was there, and Sirius needed his help. He had to find his godfather. Had to save him.

His friends trailed him, following his lead. Hermione, Ron, Neville, Ginny. Loyal to a fault. He was glad to have them by his side that night.

The turn was coming up, the aisle where Sirius was hidden, was captured. There, 97, he would be there, had to be there. Harry turned, peeling around the corner, to face-

Nothing. No one. Just another row lined by towering cases filled with the same silver orbs they had been running past. Where was Sirius?

He walked down the row, stepping out at the next intersection to look around. Still nothing. Had they already left? Did Voldemort have Sirius locked away somewhere? Were they too late?

"He's not here," Hermione said after a moment of silence, voicing the confusion on everyone's minds.

Harry turned back to look at them. "I don't- He was here. I swear, he was here."

"We believe you," Ginny placated. "We could spread out? Look for him?"

Harry nodded, opened his mouth to answer. Ron cut him off.

"Harry? I think you need to see this." He was standing at one of the shelves, looking at one of the baubles. Harry frowned.

"What is it?"

He gestured to the plaque beneath the globe he had been staring at. Harry moved forward to read it.

_S.P.T to A.P.W.B.D _

_Dark Lord and (?) Harry Potter_

"That's you," Ron said.

"I… yeah. Why is there something about me here?" And despite Hermione's warning, he reached out and picked up the bauble. It was the size of his fist, and slightly warm.

"Very good," interrupted a flat voice from behind them. "Now turn around and give that to me."

The five spun around, drawing wands as they went. There were half a dozen of them, in dark robes but devoid of the pale masks Harry remembered from the Triwizard Tournament. Most were strangers. Lucius Malfoy he recognized, though, along with Bellatrix Lestrange.

And in the front, eyes glazed over, pale and blank-faced, was Luna Lovegood.

* * *

-The Oval Basin today is known as the Roald Dahl Plass and it is where Torchwood Three is based.

I wrote this without a copy of OotP, or an internet connection. All scenes are from what I can remember, and mistakes are my own.

If anyone feels like doing a cover for _Moonrise_ or any of my other stories for the new ff.n layout, you are more than welcome to and I would love to see what you do.

Reviews are, as always, welcome.


	34. Chapter 34

Disclaimer: I own neither Harry Potter nor Doctor Who.

* * *

_But one must take care when they craft living machines, for so often if you give something a mind, it will turn on its creator. Such a lesson did the spider learn, and in the aftermath came a reckoning the spider had not expected._

* * *

Luna could see what was happening. She was fully aware of the fear and surprise on her classmates' faces, of the dark press of bodies behind her, of the chill in the deepest level of the Ministry of Magic. And yet, for all that, she could not move. Could not act. She was a passenger in her own body. Months of testing and conditioning and inbuilt safeties turning her mind into something that was no longer her own. She was trapped. Terrified. She wanted it all to be a dream, except it had never been a dream.

She was talking to the children, but she could not understand what she was saying. A filter descended over her eyes; the words were not her own. Even now she could feel her conscious self slipping away, slowly filled with something alien and not-Luna, something crafted with spells and potions and tricks and nightmares. She clawed to hang on to her own mind, to think, but she couldn't. So instead she buried herself away, deep in the recesses of herself where the gold was hidden away beneath heavy strands of shadow.

What was left was not Luna. It had Luna's memories, power, tricks and skills. But it was not her. It thirsted for blood, and death, and had no mind but that of fulfilling its orders and sating its desire for destruction.

It laughed under the shower of destruction wrought by the children. It followed the orders given, slipping away into the shadows. It was powerful and dangerous. Half-immortal, unhindered by morals or belief. Silent, powerful. Deadly. The children didn't stand a chance. The not-Luna smiled. There was a tang of fear in the air, and blood, and the hunt was just beginning. A careless wave of a wand brought a wall crashing down, sent children and grown men alike scattering away. If it wished, the not-Luna could destroy everyone. Could bring down the Ministry of Magic and Lord Voldemort and Dumbledore alike. There was no effort, only the action, the destruction. The not-Luna smiled, and it was a smile of ice and blood.

* * *

Jack Harkness slunk through the stacks of paperwork and alien technology that made up the Torchwood One archive. It was extremely late (or, rather, extremely early) and the archivist had long-since left. Guards remained, but they stood outside the door, forbidden from entering the archives, so he wasn't overly worried about being caught, not at that hour. Still, speed was necessary. He may have been a Torchwood member, but the agency had no love for him.

The file he was hidden deep within the stacks, but he knew enough about Janice to know where it would be. A member of the less-evolved bipedal species from the Racnoss' sister planet, she was the last of her kind. Her species had survived longer than their arachnid-like cousins, but approximately 3300 years ago an unknown disaster had wiped them off the map, their planet with them. Through a stroke of luck (or perhaps not), Janice had not been there. She had been aboard a high-tech experimental spaceship, a ship with access to technology beyond anyone's wildest dream. Technology of the Time Lords.

Until that ship had disappeared into the Time War, along with everyone who could work or understand the technology it carried. Everyone except Janice, who had left when she heard of the destruction of her planet, leaving her the one person who could access that technology, that knowledge no one should be privy to, save perhaps the Doctor. And she had sold that information to Torchwood in exchange for… something. The capture of the Doctor, Jack assumed.

It took him half an hour to find the file. He carefully went through it to make sure it was all there, memorized where the machine they were using was and how to dismantle it, then destroyed the file.

The second half of the operation was far more troublesome, because it required taking out the guards, making it to the lab, destroying the machinery itself, and getting out. Theoretically without being caught. He didn't count on that happening, though. So with him he had brought enough retcon to forget everything that happened since Christmas. It would be harsh, forgetting Luna, forgetting how close he was to finding the Doctor after decades of searching, but it would be far better than selling out Luna to Torchwood. No one deserved to be sold out to Torchwood. Especially not Luna. Torchwood's feud with the Doctor was as strong as ever.

Checking to make sure his failsafe was still in his pocket, Jack stepped out of the archives. The guards there he took down quickly and quietly. So far so good. The second set, in front of the elevator, went down just as quietly. As did the third set, when he stepped out onto his floor. Then an alarm started ringing, and he gave up on subtly, instead making a mad dash through the halls to the lab. 6A, an experimental lab on the 16th floor. And then he rounded a corner and there it was, right in front of him.

The four guards barely got a shot off in his direction before he returned the favor, but it was enough to locate him. Time was of the essence. He barreled through the doors. There was the device. Funny how harmless it looked, sitting in the middle of the gaping room. A slim box with a few dials on the front, a circle of tubing around it and a rod stretching up three feet. He didn't know what any of it did. That didn't matter. He could still take it apart.

The rod he snapped in half, ignoring the bite of the sparks that unleashed. The tubing he broke and smashed, glass flying everywhere. The dials he shot out. The box itself – made of some sort of softer material he couldn't name – he threw to the ground, smashing until it resembled a wreck of twisted metal more than a box. He emptied his magazine into it for good measure. By then he was no longer alone in the room; guards had pinpointed the source of the disturbance, and heavily armed men and women streamed into the room. Jack sighed to himself. There was no way he was getting out of that. Not that he had expected to, of course, but it had been nice to hope.

One of the men stepped forward. "Stand down," he ordered. Jack slowly lowered his gun. Not his Webley; he was fond his revolver and had no wish to see it in Torchwood's hands. He was carrying a standard police-issue Glock 17 instead. Thumbing the safety on he placed it on the floor and slid it over. And yet, while he turned his gun over with one hand, the other fished through his pocket, uncapping his dose of retcon.

"Take your hand out of your pocket," the guard ordered. Jack grinned.

"Whatever you say, sweetheart." And, in one smooth movement, he pulled his hand from his pocket and emptied the dose into his mouth and swallowed. He could feel the bullets as they hit, and then he was falling, but the damage had already been done. He was dead by the time he hit the ground.

* * *

The Doctor, for his part, knew exactly when the lock lifted. He could feel it break, and even though he and Donna were halfway through dealing with a mess involving an Ood and seven slitheen he immediately picked up everything and left. Donna spent the entire ride yelling at him, calling him Martian and Spaceman and demanding to know what was going on.

The Doctor ignored her. He didn't care. Because Luna was there again. He could reach her; she was there at the very edge of his mind, at the other end of a bond he hadn't been able to feel. After nearly a year of testing and traveling and worrying, he was able to find her.

And he would find Janice too.

* * *

The not-Luna smiled at the scene in front of her. Luna Etoile, half-there, aware of the world around her while not feeling, not knowing, not in control, wanted to look away and could not. Harry and his friends had been caught. Five teenagers, children, held tight by Death Eaters in an amphitheater of stone, a veil waving gently in place of a stage. The not-Luna spoke to Harry, coaxing him to give up the prophecy. He would, the not-Luna knew. If bartering and manipulation didn't work, it had many other skills up its sleeve. And then the Dark Lord would be pleased. And maybe, if it was lucky, the not-Luna would be allowed to play with one of the children, or raze the Ministry, or something else. Something fun.

And then, just as it was winning, just as the boy was giving up, others were there. Out of nowhere, pouring through the door. The not-Luna recognized some of them, from Luna Etoile's memories, and then did something it had not been programmed to do.

It hesitated.

Because among the dark-skinned man and the girl with wild hair and the rough-scarred man and the wolf-man were two others, two who meant… something, something the not-Luna could not place, and they gave it pause. There was a young man, a _brother/pack/protector_, and an older man, a _friend/best friend/missed opportunity_. And the not-Luna, for just a moment, was uncertain.

But the not-Luna was not made to be uncertain, and so it shook off the strange things it felt (because it was not supposed to _feel_, not like that) and returned to the blood and death.

* * *

Will Lupin burst into the Department of Mysteries with his brother and four other members of the Order of the Phoenix. Below six children and a half dozen adults stood in a stone amphitheater at a stalemate. Five of the students were held back, and one stood free. Will stopped short. Here she was. He had found her. He could save her. William Lupin had, after months of searching and despairing, found Luna Etoile. The wolf inside him howled with joy.

They all looked up when the Order entered, children and Death Eaters alike, but Will had eyes for only one of them. And for a moment, recognition and something else, something he couldn't quite place, flickered through her eyes as she saw him. And then her face turned blank, and her eyes turned empty, and all Will could think was _oh, no_ before chaos descended.

Because the girl in front of him, with the blank eyes and feral smile, was not his Luna. Not the real Luna.

Janice had gotten there first. He was too late.

* * *

Sirius Black was thirty-seven years old. He was young by wizarding standards. He was the Head of the House of Black. He had a godson who he had never expected to see again. His childhood best friend was a girl from the stars whom he had never forgotten.

All this was true. What was also true was this: Sirius Black was going to die.

He was going to die in trickery, and in betrayal, and in heartache. He was going to die surrounded, and alone. He was going to die at the hands of his oldest friend.

He was going to die, and it was going to change the course of time.

* * *

The taste of magic was thick in the air. The not-Luna enjoyed it. It like the movement of the fight, the dance. It appreciated both the magical combat and the physical. It relished the bloodshed. It was a creature made for death and destruction, a Time Lord warped and twisted into what less-powerful men wanted. No one stood a chance.

It was a part of everything, every battle. The combatants rotated around it, without realizing. Weasley pressed against the wall, nursing her broken ankle, older brother acting the knight, fending off pressing attacks. Granger and Longbottom back to back before their enemies. Order members locked in fights of their own. Potter, trying to get to his godfather. The not-Luna was a part of it all. The focal point. One by one, it took them down. The dark-skinned man with a broken arm. A nameless Death Eater blinded and gagged. Weasley and Weasley white-faced, wandless. Granger with heavy internal bleeding. Longbottom with a broken nose and frozen legs. The girl with wild hair standing over the unconscious wolf-man. Lestrange, downed by a prank curse from her cousin, who was still laughing.

And then the not-Luna cast a spell, and for once the gold was there, and Luna could see it, and the not-Luna could see it, and the not-Luna froze, because this was big, was important, was vast and unchangeable and _heartbreaking_ and something it had done, and the not-Luna and the real Luna agreed for once, and something shattered inside them. The real Luna broke free and trapped the not-Luna, and the web in her mind evaporated, and the gold came back and everything glittered, but it was too late, far too late.

The curse caught Sirius Black full in the chest, even as he was laughing, and cast him back, arching away from the ground, and his eyes met Luna's, and he saw her, the real Luna, staring in disbelief and horror and apology (_no, not Sirius, I'm sorry, Sirius, I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to, I couldn't stop, I still love-_). The laugh softened and the smile was still there when he passed through the veil waving gently in place of a stage in the amphitheater of stone.

Then he was gone.

Luna could not move. In the back of her head the not-Luna was still there, demanding freedom and bloodlust, but Luna locked it away, a part of her to be utterly crushed afterwards, after she had finished, after she had done something, fixed something. His eyes still smiled at her in her mind.

They were all staring at her, she knew. Will was looking at her with eyes she couldn't face. With a vicious growl and a wave of her wand the Death Eaters were tied up. Then she left, aware of Harry Potter (once a friend, long ago) behind her yelling and screaming and held back for only a moment. He followed her, chasing her up to the atrium where he would still meet Voldemort, still learn everything he had to, still be on the path that was written for him in the gold.

But when he arrived, she was no longer there. She had a visit to pay to a spider in the dark.

* * *

-As a rule, British police do not carry firearms, but their standard-issue pistol is a Glock 17 (as opposed to the Torchwood M1911).

I'm fairly certain I haven't mentioned this before, but this is the final arc of Moonrise. The story is finished, in fact. There will be two more chapters. Full kudos, thanks, and kowtowing will be had at the end.

There will be a sequel. I don't know when, or how, or what, but I know that I am not done with Luna, and Luna is not done with the repercussions of this story.

Reviews are, as always, welcome.


	35. Chapter 35

Disclaimer: I own neither Harry Potter nor Doctor Who.

Herein we reach the final confrontation between Janice and Luna. Prepare yourselves. It is fairly graphic.

* * *

_The battle to follow raged long and bloody. World were destroyed as the spider fought off Prophecy. But Foresight was a vessel of Fate, and one cannot change one's future any more than one's past. As the bird people of Patroclas V know, Fate and her sister Destiny determine the futures of all._

_Brother Chance has his own influence, though, and when Time returned, not even Destiny herself knew whether it was to crown a victor or mourn the lost._

* * *

Janice sat comfortably in the headmaster's office at Hogwarts. Dumbledore was gone, off to deal with the trouble in the Ministry. He was completely blinded to the destruction her vengeance would bring upon him and his people. The wizarding world would perish (and frankly she didn't give a damn) while the Doctor would spend eternity searching for his daughter. And even if he did manage find her, she would not be the little girl he raised.

That girl was trapped in her own head, powerless as she watched herself slowly destroy everything she had come to love and care for.

Victory tasted sweet. The web had been well laid. The plan had come to full fruition. She was unopposed.

It was over. She had won.

* * *

Luna Etoile arrived at the gates of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry without effort. She passed the walls easily. She slipped through hidden passages and secret places she herself had discovered decades ago, places she had meant to show Sirius, Sirius who she could never see again, Sirius who she had killed, Sirius her friend/best friend/missed opportunity, Sirius who she still-

No. She could not think about that. Not yet. First she had to find Janice. Find Janice and kill her. Kill her people. The not-Luna she had locked away inside herself wanted bloodshed. She would give it bloodshed enough to last the thirteen lifetimes of the Time Lords.

It was not until she reached the office doors that she paused. She carefully pulled out her wand, and took a breath, bringing her anger down from white hot to ice cold. That was more focused. Sharper.

More dangerous.

She opened the door slowly.

Inside, Janice sat. She looked up when the door opened, and for the briefest of moments her eyes widened. Then she relaxed again, leaning back against the chair in mock comfort. There was a glint of silver under the table, then it was gone. Janice smiled coolly.

"Luna. To what do I owe this visit?"

"You know exactly why I'm here."

"Enlighten me."

Luna was silent for a moment, debating. "I've come to answer a question."

"What question?"

"Your question. Why did your people have to die?" She paused and smiled. Janice shivered for a brief moment and regained her composure.

"Indeed." Her voice dripped with boredom and condescension. "And why did they have to die?"

"Because you brought it upon them. Because you played with something that was not to be played with, and brought upon your own people the wrath of the Time Lords."

"You wouldn't." The tremor was slight, and Janice hoped Luna wouldn't notice. "You're too good."

"Oh Janice," Luna tusked lightly. "You changed me yourself. It was your meddling that did this. You should know how different I am."

"You can't."

"I can," Luna countered dreamily. She looked around the headmaster's office with a mock frown. "You know, I would rather not destroy so many priceless artifacts. So much history, you understand. Why don't we take this outside?"

She didn't bother waiting for a response, instead lunging forward and grabbing Janice, and together they fell. Through the window, through empty air, twisting and turning around each other, each trying to gain the upper hand before impact. The ground rushed up to meet them, but Luna didn't care. She was stronger than anything. She was a god.

Both landed easily, facing each other under the half-light of the stars. There was no moon and it was still dark in the east, many hours until dawn.

"I worked so hard on you," Janice sighed finally, pulling a knife from where she had hidden it when Luna first entered the headmaster's office. "I sold secrets to those who didn't deserve them. I traded with stupid men and lived among the apes. I traveled far and wide. I built you so that you would create your own undoing. Never mind that, then. If you cannot do what you were made to, it falls to me to get rid of you. A pity. There was so much left. I wanted to see you screaming at your own mind, clawing your brains out, unable to face yourself."

Luna shivered (Sirius smiled softly in her mind's eye, the not-Luna was pounding against its mental prison) but did not waver. Her eyes turned hard; the dreamy far-seeing look vanished behind hate and anger. When she spoke her voice was harsh and mocking.

"So sorry I've ruined your game, Janice. It's a good thing you won't have to worry about it anymore."

Then they clashed, the Time Lady and the spider, fighting with magics and fists and minds, striving against each other. It was the sort of battle where one was either victorious or dead. Neither wished to die.

It went on, and on, and on. The Earth continued to turn, and it was moonrise, not sunrise, that approached over the horizon in those small hours of the morning, slowly lighting everything silver. And still they strove against each other. Janice had size, and strength, and centuries of experience on Luna, but Luna had learned from the Doctor, and the Master, and countless others in between, from the kung fu masters of Venus to a race of warrior monks on an asteroid far from where she now stood. She used everything she knew, from the tactics learned on battlefield far in the future to those tricks in street fighting Will had taught her during her time on the streets of London, and Janice in all her age and experience was well matched. And so they pressed on, ignoring injuries and blood and the destruction of the school grounds around them.

They broke apart as the moon crested the horizon. The grounds were silent. Inside, students and teachers slept. Outside, the Wizarding World finally awoke to a threat that had been growing for years. And between the two, the combatants prepared for a final clash. Both were injured, both were tired, both were ready for it to be over.

They fought.

Speed and skill were driven away by exhaustion, and what was left was strength and size. Janice possessed the advantage of both, driving Luna back and back. The girl retreated, using every trick she had picked up from the gathered expertise of hundreds of warriors and teachers she had met while traveling through time and space.

In the end, though, it was a very old, very simple lesson that saved her life, something Will had taught her all those years ago when she was learning how to fend off the bigger kids that roamed near the Pack's ground.

_"Get in close," he told her. "You're smaller than they are, so get in close. They'll be stronger, but you're faster. Use their own strength against them. Lure them in, wait until they're right on top of you, then strike. Hard and fast. Use something sharp: your nails, dirt on the ground, a knife – whatever you have. Go for the eyes, the stomach, the thigh. Right under the ribcage. Somewhere soft. Unprotected. Then you get out, don't wait around for them to get back up. Okay?"_

_"Okay," she agreed softly. He ruffled her hair._

_"You'll do fine, little Moon."_

Yes, she would do fine. She ducked when Janice swung high, charging forward into Luna. The knife slipped from her fingers as they fell in a tangle of limbs. Both dove for it, but Luna got there first. Her smaller frame and speed helped her there, and she scrambled away. Janice came in with fists up, but Luna was ready. She had the knife this time, eight inches of sharp silver to ward off alien. This time, when Janice swung she danced forwards (_wait until they're right on top of you_), not back, moving up into the spider's space (_then strike, hard and fast_)and cut.

But Janice had ducked to reach Luna's level, and the girl had not caught her across the stomach, or the neck, but across the face, scoring a line across open eyes. Janice fell back with an inhuman howl, clutching her face with bloodied hands. Luna stumbled back in shock. _Get out, don't wait around for them to get back up,_ Will's voice whispered in her head, but Luna stayed and stared in a strange mixture of disgust and awe. Janice stood on shaky legs, blinded, and continued forwards despite the injury. The skin over her face was drawn tight, giving her the look of something inhuman. Her shadow had too many legs. She hissed, and it was the sound of a dozen pincers clacking together. Her voice had a strange rasp.

"Demon child." Janice stumbled towards her, tasting the air to ascertain direction. "Do you know how hard I worked? How much I went through? I spent centuries planning this. Developing the technology. Forming connections. Putting up with the disgusting filth that populates this planet. I had everything planned. Everything! And you _ruined it_!" She cut through the air with scaled hands, nails growing as sharp as the knife Luna had won. "Damn you. Damn you and your father and all your little friends. As soon as I'm done with you I'll kill them all." She paused, sniffed the air again, searching. "Except that one you already killed for me."

Luna could see Sirius smile softly in her mind's eye, and something inside her reared back up, something that was not the not-Luna but just as angry, just as powerful, just as terrifying. She charged with a shout. The first blow caught Janice across the arm, then the thigh, then she buried the knife deep in Janice's stomach (_somewhere unprotected_). The spider-woman collapsed with a gasp. Luna kneeled next to her, knife still hilt deep.

"I will find your family first," Luna whispered harshly, voice raw. "I will cut the throats of the young ones while the elders watch. I will burn your brothers and sisters, your parents, your grandparents. I will go back to find the dead, and bring them to watch the slaughter. Then I will set your world on fire, and watch it break apart as your people flee to nowhere, trapped and screaming. I will not rest until I have destroyed everything you ever held dear. Do you understand me?"

Janice's eyes widened in fear, because she _would_. Janice had been wrong. She had underestimated the girl, and now she would pay, her people would pay.

Janice had misread the signs. She hadn't won. She had lost.

And then, to drive the point home, a sound rose around them, a sound Janice had never expected to hear again. A sound Janice had hoped to never hear again.

The sound of the universe.

Her head twisted blindly, and she could hear the child above her twist too.

Luna, kneeling over the spider woman, gripped the knife, ready to pull it out and drive it in again, but paused. Because just as Janice could hear it, she could hear it, could feel the wind, could see it slowly fade into being. Her hand fell away from the weapon. She was surprised to find she was crying, tears tracking through dirt and blood. Then the old blue box solidified, and door opened, and he was standing there, larger than life. It wasn't a trick or illusion, she knew because she could feel him along their old, withered bond. He was there. It was okay. She was safe, she would be fine.

It was over.

* * *

The Doctor waited impatiently as the TARDIS materialized, hoping they were where they needed to be, _when_ they needed to be. Praying they weren't too early or too late. The living ship landed with a thump, and he was at the door in an instant.

They were at Hogwarts. The moon was rising. The ground were a mess of dirt and blood and destruction under the silver half-light. In the middle of it were two figures, a woman lying on the ground and…

Luna.

She was dirty, and bloody, but she was kneeling and looking at him, and he could feel her in his mind, filled with relief and hope. She was crying, and she was thereand _alive_. And then he was holding her, holding her up and clinging to her as tightly as he could because she was _there_.

His daughter was there. He had found her.

"Daddy," she whispered against his coat. "Daddy, you came back."

"Of course I did, Lunnette," he murmured into her hair. "Of course I did. And I won't ever leave again. Never again."

He was aware of Donna standing speechless by the TARDIS, but he didn't care. He could explain it to his companion afterwards. Luna was what mattered now.

And Janice too, for the woman coughed and rolled her head towards them. "Touching," she rasped in disgust. The Doctor looked to her slowly, raising his head from Luna, cataloguing the spider's wounds. The line scored through unseeing eyes, the knife in her belly.

"And you," he said softly. "I am not finished with you. Because Luna is my daughter, and I will not allow her to destroy the remains of her innocence on you. But I have lived ten lives, and I have no such qualms. Do you know what the Daleks call me? The Destroyer of Worlds. I live up to that name. And while your world falls to fire and death, I will set you among it, suspended forever, to hear the screams of your children and your parents and your peoples. Eternally blind, eternally mired in agony and sorrow. That is my promise to you.

"I do not break my promises."

He left her like that, blind and terrified, to be dealt with later. Then the Doctor turned back to his daughter, helping her stand, murmuring to her.

"Shh, shh, it's okay, it's okay Lunette. I love you, I love you, it's okay. You're safe now." He looked up, looked around at the destruction and the horror and the memories, and held her close. She burrowed into his coat, surrounding herself with the familiar smell and feel as he led her to the TARDIS. "You're safe now."

He settled her in the jump seat in the console room, draping his coat over her shoulders, shooing Donna to stand with her. Janice was still conscious when he dropped her in the entrance, watching as she melted through the floor, imprisoned somewhere in the depths of his ship. He would deal with her later, just as he promised. Then he closed the door, and set the coordinates, and the familiar blue box slowly faded away, leaving the wizarding world far behind.

Luna looked around the TARDIS. The familiar coral patterns, the feel of the living ship under her feet, the sound and smells from her childhood. It felt to her that had been a lifetime ago. Out of place amongst all the familiarities was an unfamiliar woman, but she filled a familiar role. And in the center of it all was her father, the Doctor, familiar to the last, protective and strong and once again there for her. It was normal, was wonderful, was comforting.

It was home.

* * *

There will be an epilogue. And a sequel, but I have a mountain of books to read and I'll be out of town for a few weeks and then marching season starts, so I'm not sure how quickly there will be a sequel. Sorry.

Reviews are, as always, welcome.


	36. Chapter 36

Disclaimer: I own neither Harry Potter nor Doctor Who.

This is the last chapter. I'm updating early because I'm leaving for San Diego and Comic Con tomorrow. Author's note at the bottom.

* * *

_So it came to pass the spider was defeated, and Time regained his daughter. And though she was never the same, she regained her peace, and her curiosity, and her youth, and returned to traveling with her father as she had before. And they were closer than they had been, and perhaps more wary, but that is never a bad thing. Their lives continued many, many years, for they were ageless, and though she grew up and traveled on her own, he was always there for her, as any father is for his daughter._

* * *

Donna Noble had been traveling with the Doctor for long enough that she knew most of the important things about his life. She knew he was the last of his kind. She knew he was an alien. She knew he wasn't from Mars. She knew he liked to have someone to travel with, to help him keep control of himself. She knew he once traveled with a girl named Rose but had lost her.

Donna had no idea the Doctor was a father.

Yet there he was in his medical room or whatever the heck he called it, tending to her wounds and whispering to her as she clung to him. Donna stayed back and watched. Suddenly much of his recent behavior made sense – the brooding, the worry, the half-attentive way he interacted with everything and everyone, the times he would whisk her off to God-knows-where only to leave soon after with well-hidden anger or sorrow.

All this time, he had been looking for her. And he had found her. And as the girl drifted off safe in her father's arms, Donna found herself smiling at the scene.

* * *

Jack Harkness came back to life in an alley of London without any idea of where he was or why he was there. He couldn't remember getting there. In fact, he couldn't remember anything from the past six months. Panicked, he felt around, and his fingers closed on a piece of paper in his pocket. He pulled it out with shaking fingers.

_It's okay, you were helping the Doctor_, the note said in his own handwriting. _Stay away from TW1 for a few years. Also, Will owes you a drink._

Jack leaned against the wall. The Doctor. He had found the Doctor, and made himself forget. He stared at the note for a moment, then swore at himself, then stood up. He hurt everywhere.

"Well, I hope it was worth it," he said to no one in particular. A guy named Will owed him a drink though. That couldn't have been too bad. So he sighed, stretched, and stepped out of the alley, trying to calculate the quickest way to get back to Cardiff. He did, after all, have a job to do.

* * *

Will Lupin sat at Order headquarters, newly moved to the Burrow. Molly Weasley had placed a cup of soup in front of him, but he ignored it. Scenes from the previous night danced through his head, Luna and Sirius and Remus and Harry, and he sighed and put his head in his hands.

"It will be alright, Will," his brother said softly across the table. He had a new scar across his arm but was otherwise unharmed. Physically, at least. Will knew he was mourning his friend, just as Will was mourning his sister.

"How can you say that? You saw her."

"Because Minerva sent an owl. Janice is dead and Luna is gone. She's certain it was the Doctor. So Luna will be okay. And Sirius… well, he's gone on to another adventure. That's what Dumbledore always says, isn't it?"

"I suppose." He was silent for a long minute. "At least Luna's free of that woman. If nothing else, that will help her."

"Yes, it will," Remus agreed. "Now eat your soup, and tell me if you're sticking with the Order or not."

"I…" He could go try to find the Doctor. Or he could stay with his brother and put his skills to use where they were needed. "I think I will. But first I have to go down to Cardiff. I owe someone a drink."

Remus nodded. "All right. I'll talk to Dumbledore then. I'm sure we can make use of your many talents."

"You know, I never expected to find myself back here. After everything…" He trailed off, uncertain.

"It's okay," Remus said. "I'm happy to have you back. I've missed you, Will."

"Yeah. You too, Remus." He smiled slightly. "After all, you're my big brother. How could I say no to an offer from you?"

Remus grinned back. "Well, as your big brother it is my God-given duty to order you to eat your soup, and take care of yourself. Go have your drink and hurry back. Things are about to change."

"War's on the doorstep," Will agreed. That was okay, though. He was a soldier. "We'll be ready."

* * *

The Doctor watched Luna sleep for a moment before closing the door. She hadn't wanted to sleep, but exhaustion had won out in the end and she wouldn't be waking any time soon. He wanted to stay with her while she rested, but he had other things to deal with. A promise to keep.

Donna was right outside when he turned to the hallway. She stared at him with a raised eyebrow.

"Bit of a secret you've been keeping, Spaceman."

"Look, Donna, I can explain-" She cut him off with a hand gesture. Her voice was unusually soft.

"It's okay. You go deal with the lady you've got locked up wherever. I'll keep an eye on the kid. She could use a motherly eye."

The Doctor smiled slightly, eyes tired. "Thank you." She smiled back and he slipped away.

Janice's world was red and brown, and it reminded him of Gallifrey as it orbited its star. And despite that, he did as he promised. For Luna. So she would never have to face that again.

When he was done there he piloted the TARDIS far away. He would never speak of it. Luna would never see it, because she had seen enough horrors for a lifetime already and he would not burden her with more. He wanted to let her be a child a little longer. There was so much he still wanted to show her, to teach her, to do with her. He would keep her close, keep her protected. He had failed to keep her safe that past year. He would not fail again.

Because he was the Doctor. And he was her father, and there was nothing in all of time and space as important as that.

* * *

When Luna awoke, the Doctor was still sitting with her, holding her hand, watching her with those dark, deep eyes of his. He looked more worn than he had been when she had stumbled across the TARDIS so many years ago. Older. But he was still there, still the Doctor, still strong and brilliant and protective and all of the best things she could imagine.

The Doctor, her father.

"Hi, Dad," she said softly when he noticed she was awake. "Where are we going today?"

_Fin._

* * *

Well, that's it. I can't believe it's done. Nearly two years after I scribbled down half an idea of Luna traveling with the Doctor on the back of a name tag, it's finished.

The sequel (though I've already started it) will not be up for a while. I'm going to San Diego this week, then summer band starts and I'm back in school.

And, finally, the most important part of this: the thank yous. Thank you to Sean, my own Will, who has been here from the start. Thanks to kmcat, whose book is going to be fantastic. Thanks to proudtobeatheatrekid and Phygmalion, and everyone else who put up with my incessant rambling. Thanks to the dozens who have reviewed, and the hundreds who have kept reading. I couldn't have done it without you.

And reviews, as always, are welcome.


	37. Chapter 37

The last update for Moonrise is actually an author's note to inform you that the sequel to Moonrise, under the working title 'Starlight' (I am open to suggestions, guys) is up.

Go forth and read it. Then wait two months for an update.

You know the drill.


End file.
